#a lot of high schools use them for school projects which is exactly what I’m doing :)

[rosiehunterwolf]

Became a mom today! Well, a mom-in-training 😂

Baby Tessa turns on in 1 hour and after that I’m on her beck and call for the next 24 hours. We’ll see how excited I am when she wakes me up at 2am but as of now I’m looking forward to caring for her :)

[goldendynastys]

wonderland (pt. 1) | cs

summary: Being home alone with your pets has always put you on edge, especially at night when you get extremely anxious. You thought you were over it towards the end of your parents’ vacation, but when a random stranger breaks in one night and insists on taking you with him, everything you once knew had begun to change. You knew how your story would end, you just weren’t sure if it was for the better, or the worst.

pairing: choi san x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+, MDNI | yandere, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 8.4k warning/tags: yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, obsession, somewhat toxic relationship, fast burn, reader is innocent, angst, arguments between san and reader, lots of fluff, pet names, i think that is it but please let me know if i missed anything (i’m new at this), i hope you enjoy reading! <3

disclaimer: all members of Ateez are faces and name claims for this story. this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios.

──────────────────────

chapter one, always an angel, never a god (next →)

Growing up you always tried your best to stand out. Amongst your classmates, amongst your family. You did everything to make yourself unique, to be better. You wanted to be the best, and you tried so hard to achieve that. But in reality, you knew it was impossible, because there were a lot of people who were simply better than you. And you couldn’t compete with them, it was no use. So, you continued to be yourself, in hopes it would pay off and you would finally be the best at something, no matter what it was.

This notion of wanting to be the best most likely came from your family. It wasn’t anything your parents did per say, it was more your older brother. You loved him to pieces, but it seemed like he always got the most attention and adoration from your parents. You and your family’s lives weren’t normal (even though you hated saying those words, it made you cringe). Most families had lawyers, doctors, or strong business people within their families. Your family? Well, they were the leaders of the most popular biker gangs in town, known as the Sons of Chaos. Yeah, not a typical job for most families.

Your dad had become the leader after your grandfather had retired, and your brother was next in line to take over once your dad was ready to retire, which was coming sooner than expected. Because of this, your parents focused more on him and making sure he was ready to take this on, as well as applauding him for his hardwork and dedication to the organization. Your parents still loved you and were so proud of you, but it was obvious they cared more for your brother than they did for you. You can take care of yourself just fine, your folks don’t need to worry about you. It’s your brother they gotta pay attention to so he doesn’t fuck all of this up, a member of the gang once told you when you were fourteen years old. 

You assumed it was in that moment, you realized you had to stand out if you wanted your parents proud of you. You had to defy their expectations, work hard and try to be the best in whatever areas you could be. 

And you did exactly that for the next nine years. You excelled in school, getting the highest grades on all of your assignments, exams, and classes. You found a small passion for tennis and excelled in that as well, even getting a scholarship for college that would cover both your tuition and dorm. When you got to college, you continued these same patterns (high grades on everything, being a great tennis player), and also got accepted to a master’s program for an additional year at no cost. 

But even with all of this effort, it didn’t seem to pay off. They were proud of your accomplishments, but it was still evident that they favored your brother and focused on getting him ready to become a leader of their gang. It broke your heart that after all of this time and hardwork, they were still focused on your brother, but from another perspective, it paid off in many ways. You got high academic honors, multiple awards for tennis, and into a great master’s program. You gave yourself these amazing opportunities, opportunities that were going to help shape your future and make it bright.

Instead of letting it consume you, you let it fuel you as motivation to keep going. Someday, someone would be proud of everything you’ve done, put you first and appreciate everything about you. You were looking forward to that day, to be a goddess amongst someone instead of just being a pretty angel like everyone else. 

Other than your family’s biker gang and your extracurriculars, you had lived a quiet life for as long as you could remember. Some of it was by choice, since you loved staying in bed and watching movies, but also because you were a lonely person. You had friends, friends that you adored of course, but they were always busy and never reached out to see if you wanted to go out. So, since you couldn’t go out by yourself (unless you wanted to be murdered), you were forced to stay inside. 

There were days where you hated it, resenting your life and criticizing yourself so harshly for staying in. You often wondered if you would regret it later on, worried that you weren’t living your life to the fullest. But you knew that wasn’t true, there were plenty of occasions where you went out, whether that was with your family or on vacation. You realized those were more special, as opposed to going out every weekend. That gave you some peace and closure, but those negative thoughts always came back to haunt you, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

But this weekend was different. Well, these past two weekends, actually. Your parents and your older brother were going on vacation. A trip to the mountains, to be exact. They said it was for business, given the other biker branches of Sons of Chaos operating in the country and how they needed help from time to time. When you heard your parents and brother were going for work but also taking time for themselves to relax, it made your heart happy knowing they were getting some sort of a break. Despite your strange relationship, you still loved them and wanted them to rest and live their lives. 

While they were away, you were asked to watch over the house and your pets, a dog named Spuds and a cat named Pumpkin. They required minimal care, since they were on the older side, but Spuds needed a little more attention than Pumpkin. You had to make his dinner, take him on walks and out to do his business, and sleep with him at night so he wouldn't get lonely (your dad and mom did all of this when they were home). All Pumpkin needed was to be fed once a day and have her litter box changed every couple days (you already fed her, but your dad was the one to change her litter box when he was home). So, your tasks for the pets weren’t hard to do, per se, it just prevented you from doing certain things for the week. 

And you didn’t mind at all. You loved your pets and would do anything for them, but you also loved your parents and would do anything for them, too. They worked extremely hard and have given you and your brother a great life, so it was the least you could do. You often felt bad that you couldn’t pay them back in monetary ways to show how much you appreciate everything they did for you, but if there was anything they needed help with or wanted you to complete for them, you would do it in a heartbeat.

You wanted to give your family this, a week away from the chaos that was their life where they didn’t have to worry about anything. It made your heart happy knowing they were going on this trip. The only thing that seemed to bother you, however, was the nighttime and falling asleep.

Like the chronic overthinker you were, you were worried that someone was going to break into your house and hurt you. You put on the television and watched Bob’s Burgers in order to help you fall asleep and make sure the house wasn’t too quiet. Still, the little creaks and sounds you heard at night made your heart jump, worried that something bad was going to happen. 

Nothing ever did, however. You were able to fall asleep and wake up in the early morning to everything the way that it was the day before. You were just hyper aware of everything and wanted to make sure everything was okay. So while your thoughts were too extreme and never manifested into anything bad, you kept telling yourself that you were okay and that nothing would happen. 

You had almost gotten used to it towards the end of their vacation. You still played Bob's Burgers to help you fall asleep and add noise, of course, but you were much calmer than you were earlier in the week. In fact, you were getting excited to see your family again and for everything to go back to normal. As much as you loved having the house to yourself and sleeping next to your dog every night, you were ready to not be in charge anymore and just do whatever the hell you wanted.

The day had gone by as usual; you decided to get some groceries after your dad texted you that he and your brother needed stuff from the store. You went out in the early afternoon, going on a walk with Spuds earlier to get your steps and the dog’s exercise in for the day. You got yourself some treats while you were out that you could enjoy tonight, after you ordered in from your favorite restaurant. Additionally, you had enough money to treat yourself to some books and albums you wanted (thank God you had gotten paid a few days ago), and wanted to reward yourself for taking such good care of your pets and house for the week. The sun was out and the air was warm, making it a perfect day in your book.

After having your dinner and sweet treats, you found yourself growing tired and decided to go to sleep. You were happy it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about waking up early for work the next day. As usual, you put on Bob’s Burgers and fell asleep around eleven-thirty, a sense of happiness within you knowing your parents and brother would be home early tomorrow.

But you were awoken in the middle of the night to Spuds barking, which was something he never did. The TV had shut off due to the timer you put it on before you fell asleep, so it couldn’t have been another dog barking on the program you were watching. No, this was something else. Something that made your stomach drop with fear.

You immediately grabbed your phone and pressed your back against the door. Spuds wanted to go out and see who was downstairs, but you tried to calm him down. “Shh! Be quiet, someone’s here and I need you to stop barking,” you whispered in hopes Spuds would listen and actually stop (he did after you gave him a small treat).

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, your gut telling you this was an emergency and you desperately needed help. Once you dialed the number, however, you noticed your phone just kept ringing, no one was answering. You noticed that your phone wasn’t connected to the wi-fi, and your connection was extremely low. Odd. That never happened; even when the wi-fi was down, you were able to use the Internet and call people just fine. Why wasn’t it working now? Were the power lines destroyed by a large tree? It made no sense, but you kept calling in hopes that it would go through.

A loud sound could be heard downstairs. Someone must’ve broken down the doors, as you could hear muffled voices stepping over the damage they did and walking into your living room. Your chest tightened and you wanted to sob, but you had to remain quiet. You couldn’t let whoever was in your house know that you were here. That way, they would leave quicker and leave you alone. You placed a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down, breathing in slowly to calm down and pull yourself together. Hopefully, they would realize no one was home and be on their way. 

It wasn’t until you heard Pumpkin meow and someone speak up that you snapped out of your thoughts. “Aw, she has a cat. How cute, hi pretty kitty,” a soft voice spoke. “Will you let her take it home with you?”

“No, I already have a cat at home that she’ll love, she doesn’t need two. They wouldn’t get along, anyways. Pip hates other cats. Hell, she doesn’t even like Gunner and Tank, and they’ve been living together for years,” another voice answered. “It might be worth it to kill this one, it doesn’t seem friendly and if it stands in the way of me getting my girl, then by all means . . .”

You didn’t even think twice before opening the door and running to the top of the stairs. “No, no, don't do it! Please don’t!” You shouted. 

A chorus of chuckles responded to your pleas, and your stomach dropped. You just realized you fell for their trap. They weren’t going to kill your cat, they were just doing it to lure you out of your room. And you fell for it, like a complete idiot. 

Their laughter made you realize you didn’t want to cower in your room anymore. This was your house, they had no right to be there. You wanted to see why they were here, even if it got you killed or injured in the end, and you wanted to get them the hell out before you killed them yourself. Without hesitating, you grabbed a pair of scissors from your bathroom and made your way downstairs.

You were greeted by three men, all wearing ski masks to hide their identities. Your stomach dropped once more and your nerves increased again, but you kept your grip tight on your scissors. You weren’t going to let them win.

“Ah, there you are. We were wondering when you were going to come out,” the man in the middle spoke first. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t hurt your cat. You’re gonna love the one I have at home, and she’s going to love you.”

“What the fuck do you want with me, assholes?” You spat, holding up the scissors higher. “I won’t hesitate to stab you if you come any closer and I got the cops on speed dial.”

The third person laughed at your words. He was taller than the other two, his demeanor much different compared to them as well. His voice was deep and you could picture his sinister smile under his mask so easily. You seriously considered stabbing him right then and there. “You picked a feisty one, Sannie. I like her, do you think she’d be better off with me?” He questioned.

The man in the middle, who apparently went by the name Sannie (it must be a nickname), answered his friend bitterly. “You’re funny, Mingi. But you know she’s mine, everyone does. No one touches her but me,” the man explained. “Sorry about him. Mingi here likes to flirt with any girl that breathes, including ones that are taken.”

“What the hell– what the fuck is this? Are you here to kill me, sacrifice me to the woods, what the fuck?” You shook your head in pure confusion. “I’ll call the cops, I swear to God–”

“And what will that do, baby? We know how to outrun cops, they won’t get here until the time we’re about to leave,” he teased. 

You froze at the nickname, a stern look now on your face. Who the hell does this guy think he is? You take a few steps back and hold the scissors out to stop them from coming closer to you. “My mom’s jewelry isn’t here if that’s what you want. She gave it to someone to keep it safe, and they live far away from here. I don’t have anything, only two dollars and a broken record player. I got nothing, nothing that you want.”

“Oh, but you do have what I want,” the man snickered. “Come with me and we’ll leave your house alone. Everything will go untouched.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you spat. 

“Ah, but it will,” he protested. He turned to his two friends, who stood quietly and waited for instructions. “You have her family’s location, right? Send a text to Cyrus and send his men to their hotel, give them a good scare and take everything they have.”

Deep down, you knew he was bluffing. He was just doing it to get a rise out of you, he wouldn’t actually hurt your family. But you couldn’t risk it, no matter how much your brain was trying to rationalize with you. You immediately stepped closer to all of them, a look of fear and worry now on your face. “No, no, no! Please don’t, don’t bring my family into this, they haven’t done anything. Just leave them alone! Don’t hurt them, please.”

“Then do as I say,” he spoke slowly and grunted. “Come with me and everything goes untouched, including your family and pets. Deal?”

You hesitated. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes as you stared at the masked men — you hated this, how much power they had over you. Breaking into your home in the middle of the night and demanding you leave the people you’re taking care of. You wanted to stab all of them and call the police to make them go away — but you knew you couldn’t take them all in a fight. It would end up with you and your family getting hurt, and you couldn’t risk that.

A small plan came to mind. You weren’t sure how well it would work, but there was a small chance it would. Your phone could still send text messages even if the connection was bad, a SMS message. Your brother was always up at this hour, he was a night owl who loved to stay up and play video games until he got tired. If you sent him a message telling him what happened and to call the cops on your behalf, surely they would get to your house on time and save you from this mess. He could even call the other members of the Sons of Chaos and have them save you, they would be at your house in no time. If that didn’t work, then you could send your location to your brother and have him track you wherever you go. It was a longshot, but you had to try. Anything to get out of this and keep yourself safe.

“F-Fine, I’ll go with you,” you stuttered nervously. “But I need to change, it’s too cold for me to be wearing just a t-shirt. I’ll be right back.”

The man shook his head. “No, we’re going now—”

You cut him off instantly. “I need to change and you’re going to let me do so. Got it?”

The other men laughed at your comment, clearly not intimidated by your stern voice. The one you spoke to only sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Okay, sure. But you have five minutes. If you’re not back here, I’m coming up there to get you. Got it?” He mocked. You only sent him a stern look before trudging up the stairs. You instantly ran into your bedroom, your dog barking loudly while you whipped out your phone and started to text your brother. You began the message by addressing him by his name to show him how serious this was. I need you to call the cops, these men broke in and one of them is trying to kidnap me. Have them come to the house, I’m sending you my location in case they take me before the cops get here. Tell mom and dad what’s happening. See if Clay or the others can help. I love you so much.

The message wasn't sent until you sent it as an SMS message. You sighed in relief, hoping this would all be resolved within the next day or two. You closed your eyes to breathe for a moment, until you heard the muffling of shoes and voices downstairs, the sounds making you angry. “You got two minutes, Princess. Are you almost done?” The man shouted.

“Whatever!” You shouted back as you rolled your eyes. The nickname, the men, the one who wanted to kidnap you — it was all stupid. Stupid bullshit you had no idea why it was happening. You wanted to scream, but you hoped the cops would be on their way soon. You just hoped your plan would work to some extent. It didn’t have to be perfect, you just needed to be saved from whatever the hell this was.

You quickly threw on a purple long sleeve shirt and grabbed your phone, slipping it into your purse you decided to bring last minute. It had a taser and pepper stray, which would come in handy if any of them tried to hurt you. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and made your way to the kitchen. 

You could feel eyes burning into you as you walked downstairs. Someone whistled, which resulted in the man speaking to you hitting their chest harshly. He walked over to you and placed your hand into his, his grip strong but gentle. “You look beautiful, let's go home, it’s late and we both need to get some sleep, don’t you think?”

No words left your lips. Rather, you just remained silent as the man eagerly began to walk out of your house. Tears formed in your eyes once more as you got outside, scared to leave your home and family. You had no idea what the hell was going to happen, and the thought of never seeing them again made your heart shatter. 

It didn’t take you long to reach the cars parked near the woods. One of them was a van, in which the two men entered and began the engine. They both fist-bumped the man you were with (you wanted to scream), congratulating him on “getting his girl” (whatever the fuck that meant). As the two drove off, you were thrown into the passenger seat of a nice pickup truck. The man didn’t say a word to you, he only got in and began to drive off.

You had no idea where you were going. If they were going to kill you, or worse. The fear kept creeping into your mind; you had to do something, but you felt frozen. Then, out of nowhere, you started to pull on the door handle harshly in hopes the door would open. Perhaps your brain finally came to its senses and told your muscles to do something.

“Let me go, asshole!” You told him aggressively as you continued to yank on the handle. The man only laughed, to which you sent him a pressing glare and widened your eyes. “I’m sorry? I’m fighting for my life against a stranger who kidnapped me and all you can do is laugh? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He continued to laugh and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re just so cute when you act out, it’s just so adorable.”

This man is insane, you thought to yourself. Your jaw dropped and you immediately closed it before he could make another comment. An idea perked up in your mind and you sent a soft smile to him. “I can be extra cute, you know. Yeah, if you stop the car and let me out, I’ll act extra cute just for you. You’re going to love it.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you out in a few minutes,” he told you, his eyes still on the road.

You got excited. You were hopeful that he had fallen for your trap. You were starting to think that maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. That sense of optimism and hope you had was instantly crushed, however, once you realized you were pulling into a driveway. He was only going to let you out once you got here, so you wouldn’t be able to run away. Nice going, idiot, you thought to yourself.

The man had stopped his truck and jumped out to grab you. It didn’t take long before he was helping you out and walking you into the house with an arm around your waist. No matter how hard you tried to pull away, his grip remained firm. And you couldn’t fight back because of how strong he was. The muscles poking out of his t-shirt told you everything you needed to know.

The house was pretty big, with pretty windows and exterior design. A lake stood only a few feet away from the backyard, some fireflies flying over the water and area. You didn’t want to admit it, but the sight made you smile a little, but it faded away once the door opened and you were forced into the house by the man. Who knows what was on the other side.

The inside looked even prettier than the outside, which took you by surprise. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the place, as it was the spitting image of your dream home. The furniture, the walls, the decor — it was everything you wanted in a house. For a split second, you had forgotten where you were or what was happening. It was honestly nice to just enjoy the scene in front of you, admire the house and pretend like everything was okay.

“Do you like it?” The man asked, pulling you back into reality. “I had it designed a few years ago, but added what you liked once I learned more about you. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I hate to say it, but it is. But there is one thing I’d take out that would make it absolutely perfect. I wonder what that could be . . . oh yeah, you,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest. “So, what? Are you going to kill me in your basement, sell me or my organs to the black market? Sacrifice me to some cult you and your friends are a part of? You mind telling me what the hell is going on here? You’ve kept me alive this long, and if I’m going to die soon, I’d at least like to know what I’m dying for. And take off your mask, I’d like to know the face of the man I’m going to haunt for all eternity once I’m dead. Plus, it’s really stupid.”

He chuckled at your words. You could picture his smug smile under his mask, and it annoyed you even more. “Nah, none of the above, actually. I brought you here for a more special reason, and it has nothing to do with you dying or being sacrificed to Satan.”

“How unfortunate,” you muttered under your breath.

He didn’t say a word about your comment. Instead, he slowly removed the ski mask off of his face and set it down on the table. You stared at him, taking in his features. He had a sharp jawline, with brown eyes and red hair. Dyed red hair, obviously. You could see his dark roots under the red. He looked intimidating, but also . . . sweet? Kind? You couldn’t tell. He had an awful demeanor, given what he just did to you. He was strong, as you noticed the muscles standing out through his shirt from beforehand. Buff, if you will. But even within that, he didn’t seem too mean. There was something about him that appeared to be gentle, which made no sense given the context of why you were in his house. 

He caught you staring at him and sent you a sly smirk. “Like what you see?”

“No,” you responded quickly and rolled your eyes. “Now answer my question: what the hell do you want with me? Why am I here?”

The man only sighed and made his way closer to you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, goosebumps now evident on your neck. You gulped in fear, hoping he would stop and give you some space. “You’re here because I want you to be with me. My girlfriend, if you will. I knew the first day I saw you that you were mine. The boys kept telling me I had to give it more time to really make sure, but I didn’t agree with them. I made them help me make a plan to bring you home, and now here we are.”

“P-Plan? You had this entire thing planned, to kidnap me?” You asked. “W-What, this is so fucked up, I . . . wait, when did you see me? Because I’ve never seen you before in my life, you’re lying.”

“A few months ago, when you were working at the grocery store. You were too caught up in getting that order ready, but you gave me a soft smile, and I knew then that it was you. I did everything I could to learn more about you, and it didn’t take me long to concoct a plan to make you mine,” he explained. 

You wanted to scream. Your chest was tight and you could feel your hands forming into fists. Tears began to prick in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, you didn’t want this man to think you were weak, or that you wanted his sympathy. “So you stalked me? You just gathered all the information that you could and stalked me?”

“Well, when you put it that way—” He tried to joke, but you only scoffed. He grabbed your arms in an attempt to help you not get angry. “Hey, hey — I know it sounds bad, but I did this for a reason. The men in my line of business, it’s just how we get our girls and make them ours. It helps us ensure that they stay with us and no one will take them away. I had to do this, to make sure you were safe. You’ll understand overtime.”

The man was rubbing his thumb over your arms to help you calm down, but you yanked them back and made your way to the other side of the living room, to get as far away from him as you could. “First of all, that is wrong on so many levels, I don’t even know what to say except that you’re crazy and that is not how you treat romantic partners. Second of all, you could’ve just asked me on a date like a normal person, I would’ve said yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I’ll take you on a bunch of dates soon, Princess. It’ll be like you said and we’ll do anything you want. Anything to make my girl happy.”

“I’m all set, thanks. I’ll be getting out of here soon enough, so the dates aren’t gonna happen. Especially when you’re behind bars,” you reassured both yourself and him. 

Your comment only made him laugh. “Sure, baby, sure. The cops won’t find us, I know how to outrun them and keep them off my back. You think I would just take you without thinking about the police first? They won’t know a thing, and they’ll never find you. Hell, they don’t even know what I look like, just my name. Even then, they fear me.”

“I’m not talking about the cops. My family and our friends know a thing of two about dealing with assholes like you. You’ll be lucky if they let you go in one piece, and even then you’ll be begging them to throw you in a jail cell,” you threatened. If there was one thing you knew for sure in this world, is that if you were ever in a crisis, your family and their motorcycle gang would be there in an instant to get you out. That was the only thing keeping you sane, knowing they would save you from this mess.

He couldn’t help but scoff at your comment. “Oh, really? You think the Sons of Chaos are gonna scare me into letting you go? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Princess, but I can outrun and outsmart your family and their little group. Once they figure out who I am, they’ll be scared shitless and won’t stand a chance against me and the boys. The cops fear me, they’ll fear me, everyone is scared of me. There’s no getting out of this, no matter how hard you try.”

“Yeah? And what’s your name if everyone’s so scared of you?” You joked, trying to irk the hell out of this man so he would eventually break and let you go.

“San. Choi San, if you want my full name.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You heard that name before, a long time ago, but you couldn’t remember where. “Choi San . . . why does that sound familiar?”

“Probably heard of me on the news. The gang I’m a part of, too. Yeah, we’re on the news a lot for the shit that we do. Does the name Ateez ring a bell? Everyone says we’re dangerous and a threat to the city, but it’s a bunch of bullshit. We’re just doing what we love most. We’re strong, fast, and protect ourselves well. Where’s the harm in that?”

Your stomach dropped at the realization. You knew very well what Ateez was, they were the talk of the town for years, even now. You remember learning about them when you moved home for your master’s program, your family so horrified and disgusted with their actions. You didn’t like them, either, being extra precautious when traveling around town and when you were at school for the day. But you never thought you’d actually come face to face with one of the members; it was one of those things where you would never expect to run into them in real time, only in your imagination. To be in the house of a member was something you never expected to happen.

The room was silent as you stared at San. Your breath hitched as you felt your feet take you backwards, only a little bit. Being a member of Ateez only meant violence, danger, and you had no idea what Choi San wanted with you. You wanted to take out the can of pepper spray you brought with you. The lap in the living room seemed to be a better weapon, however. Anything to defend yourself against him in case things went terribly wrong. “Ateez? Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You’re criminals. You’re dangerous, violent, and cruel.”

“Ouch. That your opinion or what everyone else keeps telling you?” San bit back, taking a few steps closer to you, in which you kept backing up. “Whatever you think about us, it’s not true. We aren’t evil people, we work for what is ours and do whatever we need to do to get it. Yeah we’re involved in dangerous shit, but we can protect ourselves well. We know how to handle it.”

“Doesn’t negate the fact that you still work with illegal shit,” you spat, your arms now crossed over your chest. 

San let out a small laugh. “Oh, and the Sons of Chaos are completely innocent? They’re not the good people you think they are,” he said, saying your name at the end of his sentence to show how serious he was being.

“That’s different. The Sons of Chaos have done some terrible things, yes, but they’ve changed. They aren’t the same people they were five years ago, my brother is changing it for the better. Unlike you and your friends, they actually care about people and don’t take them from their homes in the middle of the night,” you defended. 

“Yeah, sure they have. Deny it all you want, but the Sons of Chaos are exactly the same as us. We are one in the same. You’ll see it soon enough and realize your family aren’t the perfect people you make them out to be,” San fought back, his jaw now tighter than before. Whatever you said ticked him off, perhaps at how naive you were being. 

But you didn’t care. You stood by what you said — your family and the Sons of Chaos were good people, they were changing for the better. No matter what San said, you wouldn’t let him get into your head. Especially after what he did to you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. You slowly started to put the pieces together to try and make sense of all of this. “Is that . . . is that why I’m here? Because you saw me and thought it’d be funny to rip a random girl away from her family? To upset her family who did nothing to you, all because you can? God, why can’t I just go home?”

You were about to cry, you could feel the tears welling up again and your voice getting weaker every time you spoke. As much as you wanted to hold them back, you just let them fall because you couldn’t take it anymore. You let the tears fall as you profusely wiped them with your sleeve. The night had gotten to be too much, between being taken by a random man after he broke into your house and the possibility of never seeing your family again. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, it had to release its emotions.

San caught onto this and immediately rushed to your side, pulling your hand away from your face and wiping your tears with his thumb. “Hey, hey,” he cooed. When you tried to pull away from him, he gently grabbed your arm and brought you closer to his chest, your arm resting against it to create some distance. “I know this is a lot, this is a big change for you and it’s very hard to hear. But like I told you, I took you because I know you’re the one for me. I want to be with you,” he explained, whispering your name to show how serious he was about this. “My pretty little housewife, I just want to love and take care of you, Princess. This will be a hard adjustment, I know, but I can make you happy, give you a life that you deserve.”

“Wait, housewife? You just said girlfriend, you never said anything about me being a housewife. Jesus Christ, I don’t even know how to cook let alone raise a baby—” You started, your chest tightening in fear.

“Too much, that’s my fault,” San cut you off. He slipped his hand into yours, still holding you in his chest. “Let's go to bed, we can talk about this more in the morning after we’ve slept, okay?”

You didn’t say anything. You remained quiet as San guided you up the stairs. The second floor was even prettier than the first, with multiple rooms lining the halls accompanied with pretty colors and paintings. He took you to the end of the hall, which you assumed was his bedroom. And it was. In the center stood a king sized bed, with a flatscreen TV mounted to the wall. Dressers, a closet, and a master bathroom were a part of the bedroom. It was a nice room, especially with how big the windows were. You liked it a lot, despite the situation you were in.

You awkwardly stood in the middle of the room while San searched through his drawers. He came back to you, handing you a large t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. “These will do for the night, I didn’t get a chance to go shopping for your clothes this week, only some basic t-shirts. We’ll get you some more this week, but for now my clothes will have to do. You can get changed out here, I’ll just change while I brush my teeth. I have one for you, too. You can just come in whenever you’re ready.”

You only nodded your head, and he was in the bathroom within seconds. You quickly tore off your clothes quickly to make sure San wouldn’t come out and see you half naked. His clothes were big, but so comfortable (though you would never admit it). As you folded your clothes, you remembered your phone was still in the back pocket. As quickly as you could, you pulled your phone out to see if your message had gone through. SMS error, the screen read. Damnit, you thought to yourself. You hoped you’d have a second of alone time so you could try sending it again, now that you were in a different location. 

You hid your phone under your clothes and kicked them into a pile once you heard San open the bathroom door. Once he walked out, you traded places and began to brush your teeth quickly. You liked how the bathroom had two sinks, a big shower, and a nice bathtub. You always liked bathrooms like that, for whatever reason. They just felt fancy, elegant.

San stood over the bed by the time you had gotten out, scrolling through his phone. He immediately shut it off and walked over to you. He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he admired you (probably because you were wearing his clothes), to which you rolled your eyes. “Sorry, Princess,” he chuckled. “You just look so good in my clothes. My pretty girl. Come, let's go to sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you. I’ll just sleep on the couch downstairs with some pillows and blankets,” you shook your head. 

“It wasn’t a question, you’ll be sleeping with me from now on,” he told you sternly, his jaw tightening. 

“And I told you I’m not going to,” you fought back. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sleeping on the couch whether you like it or not, asshole.”

Before San could protest, you opened the door. Only, instead of going downstairs, you were stopped by a small cat sitting at the doorway. Once it saw you, it began to meow and rub up against your leg. You immediately fell in love with it; as much as you didn’t want to pick it up (because you weren’t sure if it liked being touched), you felt your arms reaching down and scooping it into your grasp. You immediately felt the vibrations against your hands, the cat now content with you holding it. 

“Why hello there,” you cooed with a wide smile. “You are very beautiful, and very sweet. What’s your name? I absolutely adore you.”

“Her name is Pip. I rescued her from a shelter almost seven years ago—” San started to explain.

“I only asked for her name,” you cut him off, your eyes still glued to the cat. “Hi Pippie, that is such a cute name. I want to take you home with me so badly, you’d love my cat. But I guess we’re both stuck here with that thing in the corner, but we don’t have to spend time with him. Come, we’re gonna sleep downstairs on the couch.”

As you were about to leave the bedroom with Pip, San called out to you. “Wait!” he said. 

You slowly turned around with the cat still in your arms. “Pip just told me she wants to go to sleep, so make it quick.”

His jaw tightened once more, the stern look from earlier was now on his face again. “The couch isn’t that comfortable to sleep on. It’s less comfortable than the bed. Sleep with me here tonight, and I’ll let Pip sleep right next to you.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable sleeping with you—”

“Pip never sleeps with me, I’ve tried so many times but she won’t budge. But with you, she might. Just sleep here with me, please,” San cut you off, his voice now tired. Clearly, he had enough of your behavior and wanted to go to sleep. You did too, but he asked for this after what he did. It was his own damn fault. 

The cat kept purring against you, her head now in your neck. After thinking about this for a few minutes, you let out a sigh and groaned dramatically. “Ugh, fine. You win, I’ll sleep in your bed tonight. But I swear to God, if you try anything, I will stab you over and over again until you are dead. Got it?”

He chuckled with a smile. “You’re so cute when you act all bratty and tough.”

You rolled your eyes as you reluctantly dragged yourself to the bed. “I’m not a brat, you’re the brat,” you muttered. Once you sat down, Pip crawled out of your arms and planted herself on the end of the bed. Slowly and nervously, you laid down and pulled the covers over your body.

Without warning, San wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed your back against your chest. Your hand immediately went up to smack it. “Um, no. This is my half of the bed, you stay on your half. Did you forget about the invisible barrier that splits down the middle?”

“Really? There was? Hmm, guess I broke it,” San shrugged his shoulders. You tried to move out of his grip, but it was no use, he was much stronger than you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed gentle kisses on your cheek and neck. “Goodnight,” he whispered your name, placing one final kiss on your neck.

But you didn’t wish him the same. Rather, you shut your eyes and tried to fall asleep. Pip’s purring and warmth kept you calm, but other than that, your mind was on fire. A million thoughts burned through it, you didn’t know where to begin or how to make sense of it all. Your life changed in an instant. One minute, you were happy living at home with your family and enjoying your small vacation. The next minute, you were kidnapped in the middle of the night by some creep who was a part of the most dangerous gangs in the area, claiming to be in love with you and making you his “girlfriend.” You had no idea why this was happening to you, why he wanted you, out of all people.

You always cringe at yourself whenever you think of yourself like this, but you weren’t special. You wanted to smack yourself in the head at how stupid you sounded, but it was true. You weren’t. You were just like everyone else, no matter how hard you tried to be different. Everything you did, from tennis to school, was the same as everyone else. There were people who were better than you, much better, you would never be on top. There was always someone who was more talented or more skilled than you. You were never enough, no matter how hard you tried. 

Even with your friends and family, you were just normal to them. You knew it was different with your family, since they focused on your brother more and wanted to get him prepared for taking over the Sons of Chaos when his time came. They constantly praised him and put all of their attention into him, so you expected them to not think of you as their favorite. Your friends were a different story, however. 

Whenever you made a friend and became really close to them, you thought so highly of them. You thought they were your best friend, and that they thought the same. The one person they could go to for anything, their special friend. You always thought of your friends that way, but they never did about you. They always had someone they were closer to, someone they’d pick over you without hesitating. You’ve always wanted that, ever since you were younger and everyone seemed to not like  you because you were “weird.” And everytime you thought you found that person, they never thought of you the same way.

It crushed you, but you knew that person would come into your life someday. You loved the friends you had and the memories you shared, but you just wanted a best friend. Someone who could count on you and would choose you first, and you the same. Someday you would find that person, you knew in your heart that you would.

You were used to never being enough, for anyone or anything. You had grown to accept that, and you thought you would be fine and that everything happened for a reason. But now came Choi San, a man who claimed to be “the one” for you and would put you first. Well, from what you gathered. You had no idea what he was capable of, if he was going to kill you in the middle of the night while you were asleep. But he seemed to really care for you, in his own sick and twisted way. 

He certainly couldn’t be the person you kept praying about. No, this man was insane. He kidnapped you in the middle of the night, took you away from your family, most likely for good. One minute he seemed sweet, but the next, he could easily get angry and possibly hurt you badly. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the person you were searching for your entire life. You deserved better, and this was a sick punishment you got for absolutely no reason. You weren’t perfect by any means, but you did not deserve this.

You were sure things would change in the coming days. You would figure out a way to get out of this hellhole and back to your normal life, even if it took some time. You were determined to be reunited with your family again, and you were going to make sure that it happened. It didn’t matter what you had to endure — as long as you could find a way out, you would do anything if it meant returning to the life you once knew and loved.

All your life, you had been an angel amongst gods and prayed one day you would become one. Now that you had that power, the ability to be seen as a god — you were starting to realize that maybe you were better off being an angel. Angels never got hurt, they cared for others but no one did the same for them. Perhaps you were better off as an angel, invisible amongst the gods where you didn’t have to worry about anyone but yourself. 

Back then you had your freedom, but now you were trapped with the devil himself, and you didn’t want to be a god who would succumb to their worst nightmares just to survive. You couldn’t let yourself. And now, you would do anything to get your freedom back. Even if it meant sacrificing yourself to become an angel for as long as you lived.

[demigod-shenanigans]

While I’m on the topic of Valgrace adopting a child, this is Sofía:

Some lore:

When Jason and Leo are in their late twenties/early thirties a demigod legacy leaves a baby at the entrance of the Waystation. The decision to adopt her is easy—they’d been thinking about adoption anyway. Besides, Jason has been the abandoned child before and Leo obviously isn’t fond of the foster system and knows exactly what it’s like to feel unwanted by a foster family. They’ve both felt so lost and alone and unloved in the past and they immediately vow that they’ll do everything in their power to make sure this little girl won’t ever feel like that.

They name her Sofía Esperanza Valdez. Sofía because it’s one of the names they both liked and Leo decides she just looks like a Sofía, and Esperanza obviously in honor of Leo’s mom. Jason is the one to gently suggest using it as a middle name, stating that if names have power, there’s nothing quite as powerful as hope, and Leo immediately starts crying. (He knew he wanted to honor his mom in some way. He just didn’t bring it up because he was terrified that the baby sharing a name with his mom after what happened to her might be bad luck. But Jason is right that hope was the thing that saw them through when nothing else would, making it a name that’s fundamentally very positive. Besides, Leo’s mom was so much more than her death. She was smart and brave and stubborn and loved with all her heart. She managed to find happiness, even in the difficult times. All of these are good things.)

Me and @queenjunothegreat have been waffling back and forth about this girl for weeks, there is so much lore I’ll probably need a lot of posts for all of it (or asks, if anyone wants to know anything specific please feel free to send asks)

For now, have some additional Sofía fun facts (under the cut so people who aren’t interested can scroll past more easily):

-She’s a legacy of Luna, the faded Titaness of the moon. Piper thinks it’s hilarious that wolf boy somehow ended up with a moon child and jokes about it a lot.

-When she wouldn’t sleep as a baby Jason would rock her while levitating up and down the hallway. They’re not sure why, exactly, but this almost always worked.

-Sofía’s first word is papa, which is not, in fact, the Spanish word for dad that Jason was going for but instead means either pope or potato (depending on how it’s gendered). The word for dad is papá, which is similar-ish but emphasizes the ending instead of the beginning. Adult Jason’s Spanish is decent but he got it mixed up which part needed to be emphasized and taught her wrong. Leo absolutely explodes into laughter when he hears it and it’s one of his favorite stories to tell for years. Every time someone asks about her first word he lights up like a Christmas tree. Jason is mortified but the whole thing brings Leo so much joy that maybe the embarrassment was worth it.

-Leo is always building her stuff to play with. Sofía is the kind of kid that brings some new toy to kindergarten/school at least once a week because Leo cannot tell her no for shit.

-Leo is usually the one who stays up at night with Sofía when she’s a toddler. Due to the whole moon child thing, she’s a terrible sleeper (good luck waking her in the morning) but Leo doesn’t really mind. He’s just tinkering away at some project that he’d probably be working on at that time anyway as his very awake kid toddles about and they’re both perfectly content with it. They fall asleep on the couch together watching TV the next morning, and Jason just smiles and gets a blanket to put over Leo’s knees.

-Her and Leo definitely bake together and it usually comes out well but the kitchen is always a huge mess after. One time she insisted her dad help her make a birthday cake for her papá’s birthday but Jason cannot cook or bake to save his life and it was a complete disaster.

-Sofía has no concept of fall damage. Absolutely none. Will climb up anywhere no matter how high and jump off with zero hesitation because there’s never been a time when her dad hasn’t caught her (either personally via flying up or with the winds). Leo is way more anxious about this than Jason, which seems strange until you consider that Jason is married to Leo and has had to catch him plenty of times in the past, but while Leo worries about Jason sometimes, he’s never really had to worry specifically about Jason falling from high places before. But obviously, unlike Jason, Sofía can’t fly.

-When she’s annoyed, she scowls in a way that’s almost comically similar to Jason.

[sungbeam]

𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 — teaser!

nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!

▷ genre, teaser warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, humor; no specific warnings

▷ projected release date. fri, may 12th (i think?) HEY IT'S OUT GO READ IT HERE

▷ estimated wc. 30-34k

▷ taglist. open!

this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be a lot of references to prior fics :)

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 500 WORDS)

“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”

Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”

Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”

Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.

Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"

"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."

"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."

"What happened in junior year?—"

Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."

The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"

"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.

Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"

Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."

Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"

"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."

All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll

anr taglist: @oi-miya @loveliestfelix @sickvision @jaerisdiction @stealanity @magnificentjudementmoneyhands @inthesunnn @igotkpoopsss @letsnotdoanything @sodafy @dajanxekiwi @sseastar-main @moonyswolf @sleepymoon27 @floatingpluto @fictionlover100 @winterchimez @zlebooks @mcu-incorrect @moontyuns @blessedsunoo @elljj

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Tagged by the talented @kvetchinglyneurotic

1. How many fandoms have you written in?

One! Two if you count the truly bad LOTR fic I wrote in high school.

2. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I wrote a story or two in high school and then nothing for a long time. I started really writing almost a year ago (just looked published my first fic on 5/21)

3. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Writing because I basically only read Ted Lasso fan fiction recently and it’s just slowed its output.

4. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

I’ve learned to outline a bit more than just winging it like I did for so long. I’m not sure if there’s a specific thing I’ve improved on, just generally I think (I hope).

5. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

How to make chloroform lol but mostly just injury related things, spleen removal, stuff like that. Total normal whump writer things.

6. What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I truly love any and all comments, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I loved the long, detailed type with quotes, etc but I also love the ones that are just a sentence of reaction like one I got that just said “good fucking fic” and I LOVED that.

7. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

My online circle contains a lot of whump-enthusiasts but probably whump although gen stories sometimes feel very fringe.

8. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

All of them? I can’t do anything short, which is why whumptober was so hard to get though, I want the whump but then I want the comfort and I just don’t know how to write something concise that is satisfying to me.

9. What is the easiest type?

I don’t know if I find anything about writing easy. Different parts of the story are easier than others but I haven’t found a type that is easy.

10. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Wherever I can, but usually from my couch. I use google docs but have wanted to look into other platforms but none seem to have exactly what I want. Whenever my brain tells me to write.

11. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

Hockey AU for sure, along with an idea I have for a post-series fic where Michelle and Henry move to London and Ted stays.

12. What made you choose your username?

I was looking for a new one that I could use here and on ao3. When I mentioned this to the brilliant @jamiesfootball they suggested something to incorporate my love of Noah Kahan (many many of my titles are from his songs) so jamietarttsnorthernattitude was born. I’d like to think Jamie and I share a Northern Attitude.

Trying to tag who hasn’t been tagged but these things spread quickly and I might have missed people so trying @fanficfanattic @jamiepoptart @nativestarwrites @lunar-years @providing-leverage and anyone else who would like to play

[aburruso-capstone-uhwoacm]

Progress Report #1

These past two weeks, I’ve been working on the pre-production materials for my capstone game (working title: Sneaker).  Most of it involved making concept art (which I’ll get into later), but there were some other major things that happened.

Before I discuss what exactly happened, I first need to explain my capstone idea.  Basically, it’s a puzzle game where the player has to input coordinate points.  These determine where their character will move and shoot.  This is important to know because it will explain the first major event that happened in these past two weeks: I revamped the story of the game.  The idea I was originally going to go with involved a high school student shooting down evil drones.  The problem with this, however, is that I wanted to integrate a grid in the game (since it’s about coordinate math).  I couldn’t figure how to do this without it clashing with the plot, which would take place in a city.  So, I decided to completely scrap the “kid vs. drones” idea and instead went for a story that took place inside the metaverse; my reasoning is that the floor could look like a grid (because it technically takes place inside a computer).  Now, the plot of Sneaker involves a girl going into the metaverse to take down servers that allow people to hack into others’ computers.  There is a bit more to it, but that’s the basic idea.

Afterwards, I got started on the concept art.  Designing the girl (whom I named Sasha) took a lot longer than I expected, mainly because I had trouble finding a good hairstyle for her.  The final hairstyle I chose is heavily inspired by Meryl Silverburgh’s from Metal Gear Solid.  While I wanted to emulate the way her hair flares out, I also didn’t want to copy it completely.  Combined with the possibility that Sasha could only be facing to the right for most of the game (I’m still figuring that out), I decided to change the bangs so that the larger bang is on Sasha’s left instead of the right; this is because I didn’t want her hair to cover the eye that would be facing the player most of the time.

After I finished designing Sasha, I also designed the servers and some obstacles.  These took less time than Sasha, though I did try to experiment with different ideas.  For example, there is an eviction bot that takes the form of a hole.  Originally, I made it circular, but then I decided that it would fit the setting better if I made it a square.

While this is all good and great, I still have one big issue: the color scheme.  So far, I’ve made all the designs on paper.  However, I don’t think I have enough color pencils to give Sasha and the obstacles the colors I want for them.  I’m thinking that I may have to go digital for this.  Otherwise, I’d have to figure out the colors when I start making the sprites (which would not be ideal).

Besides the concept art, I’ve also been creating a “full” game design document for Sneaker.  I’ve been using Scott Rogers’ template from his book Level Up.  However, I did make some adjustments to account for the fact that my project just consists of a single demo level (such as removing the game progression outline).  Earlier, I had made a 1-page and 10-page document (also following Rogers’ templates) containing a lot of information about the game.  So, I could just copy-and-paste some of the text from them into the full document.  Still, I have to add more content, such as the player metrics and artwork.

Based on my workback plan, the pre-production stage isn’t over until Saturday.  So, I’ll try to finish the rest of the concept art (primarily the UI and the color schemes) and the game design document.  Once I’m finished with that, I’ll be able to start the first build of Sneaker.  :)

[lumiereandcogsworth]

tagged by @thavron thank you my dear :)

1. are you named after anyone? yes! my great-grandma lydia. we share a birthday AND she died on her birthday exactly one year before i was born. a very fun and slightly spooky anecdote

2. when was the last time you cried? last night, i got a very angsty fic idea and as usual i somehow manage to put myself into the character’s shoes so easily and i was crying a character’s tears. last time i cried my own tears was the night before i think, or something like that. idk, i cry a lot lmao.

3. do you have kids? no but my build-a-bear stitch IS my son

4. what sports do you play / have you played? i played basketball from ages 6-17 and it was basically my entire personality. haven’t done any sports since then and probably won’t, though i’m trying to find some kind of exercise that could actually be fun :/ i loved rock climbing in college but there’s no wall near where i live. but anyway i’ll figure it out

5. do you use sarcasm? noOooOoo i would Neverrrrrrrr

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people? i genuinely have no idea, i don’t really look at people. maybe their voice/the way they speak? or their shoes cuz that’s where i be looking lmao

7. what’s your eye color? i don’t knoowww. blue green grey. depends on what i’m wearing, sometimes the blue really pops. but sometimes it doesn’t look like my eyes are blue at all so. i think they’re mostly grey.

8. scary movies or happy endings? once again this question makes no sense because a lot of scary movies (most?? nearly all????) HAVE happy endings. but anyway to quote the fairy fauna from sleeping beauty, i just LOVE happy endings :”)

9. any talents? well i like to think i’m an alright writer! i actually Know i’m a good writer at least when it comes to school essays because that was always where i got the most praise. but i think my fics are pretty good too!! writing’s just always come naturally to me. other than that idk, i’m pretty good at memorizing stuff when i want to.

10. where were you born? pacific northwest babey!!!! (northwestern united states)

11. what are your hobbies? writing and day dreaming are like, my two staples. i’m striving to make 2024 the year i start being more crafty though. i have a couple projects brewing and i have a batb 2017 coloring book that i just bought some markers for to start coloring more. in the future i’d like to try crochet and embroidery but i don’t wanna overwhelm myself. one step at a time

12. do you have any pets? no :( i’m just an auntie to a lot of pets. the one i see most often is my brother’s shiba inu, mishka. he’s my little baby nephew and i wanna eat his face off. but anyway i’d like a cat or two some day! probably whenever i move out of my parents’ house. (which i’m not in a big rush to do, i like it here :3)

13. how tall are you? somewhere between 5’5 and 5’6. but with shoes definitely 5’6

14. favorite subject in school? elementary to high school it was probably english/creative writing, since i’ve always had a knack for it. in college it was my two majors, comparative ethnic studies and history. my favorite CES classes were “race and racism in pop culture” and “blackness in film.” my favorite history classes were “history of the late middle ages” (shout out to my girl joan of arc!) and “history of ancient greece” which was my absolute favorite course in all four years of university. it was actually one i happened to take in the quarantine year (my junior year of college) but it still slapped even despite being over zoom. that professor was awesome and i was so obsessed with the material, i kept most of the books and even asked him for more recommendations. (haven’t read them all yet, but i like seeing them on my bookshelf lol)

15. dream job? whatever ends up supporting my desires in life, and brings me at least some semblance of joy. the job i have right now is actually really awesome. it has a couple downsides but overall i’m extremely happy with my job and it feels great :)

tagging: @gayassbenaffleck @freakwiththeknifecollection @gavotteangel @roberrtphilip @ariiiloves @autumnrose11 @ginnyweatherby @enchanted-keys @romeoandjulietyouwish @japhan2024 @splendiferous-bitch + anyone else can say i tagged them :))

[none-ofthisnonsense]

The French School System - Part 2

Part 1 is here.

(This is accurate as of June 2023, but the way the Éducation Nationale is going, it probably won’t be so for much longer...)

SO! Part 2. Small explanation of Collège.

(Under a cut because it got long.)

Collège is the first part of secondary school, so what you’d call middle high in the USA I think? At the end of Collège is the Brevet, which is roughly equivalent to UK GCSEs.

These are the years (taken from my previous post):

“Collège” - 1st part of secondary school (at the end of 3ème is the Brevet (equivalent to GCSEs) which certifies the end of Collège) - equivalent to middle high (US) 11 - 6ème - Year 7 - 6th Grade 12 - 5ème - Year 8 - 7th Grade 13 - 4ème - Year 9 - 8th Grade 14 - 3ème - Year 10 - 9th Grade

Ages are the usual age when starting the school year.

*

Here are the usual time slots for each year in only the mandatory classes (so without options):

(https://www.education.gouv.fr/les-horaires-par-cycle-au-college-9884)

6ème: 26 hours/week without options

French: 4h30

Maths: 4h30

History-geography (+ a weird ethics and civics thing): 3h

First language (other than French, typically English): 4h

Science (in 6ème it’s regrouped as a general big thing instead of being subdivided): 4h

Sports: 4h

Art: 1h

Music: 1h

5ème: 26 hours/week without options

French: 4h30

Maths: 3h30

HG (+ the other thing): 3h

First language: 3h

Second language (mandatory, other than French, typically either Spanish/German/Italian): 2h30

Biology + Earth Sciences: 1h30

Physics + Chemistry: 1h30

Technology: 1h30

Sports: 3h

Art: 1h

Music: 1h

4ème: 26 hours/week without options

Exactly like 5ème.

3ème: 26 hours/week without options

French: 4h

Maths: 3h30

HG etc: 3h30

The rest is the same as 5ème and 4ème.

.

BUT. There are 10 extra hours in total during the year of “vie de classe” which are used for when your main teacher (prof principal) needs to talk to you, or to do class projects, or to vote to elect class representatives.

AND. 3 hours of the 26 (in 6ème), 4/26 in 5ème are used for “accompagnement personnalisé” which is basically your class goes in half-groups and has more attention given to each student than can be given in a full class. These can also be EPIs - enseignements pratiques interidisciplinaires - which are things that mix two subjects (or more) together to do a project. So if you did something that mixed French and Music, for example.

Students can also take an extra language from 6ème on, usually Latin/Greek or a regional language.

Additionally, students can have extra activities at school (clubs and sports things and stuff) which don’t count in the 26 hours.

*

Now! We are lucky here! Because I still have some of my timetables from when I was in 4ème and 3ème. 5ème is basically the same as 4ème, and in 6ème you just don’t have the second language.

Here they are:

4ème:

3ème:

Now, I’ll be the first to admit I was a dramatic little student who just wanted to take as many classes as possible.

Also, I was in the bilingual section and had more English than normal people because I was in an international school.

As you can see, in 4ème I had more than 26 hours. I had 33. This was because:

- I had an extra 2.5 hours of Mandarin (as the regional language because I lived in Asia)

- and 2 extra hours of English because I was in the bilingual section, and 2 extra hours of history-geography in English for the same reason

- Vie de Classe was counted in my timetable as a regular class (so 0.5 hours per week, or once every two weeks) because it was easier that way

All of which bring us to 33 hours.

.

In 3ème, for me: 33.5 hours.

Same things as before, but I only had 1.5 hours of HG in English, and an extra 30 minutes of accompagnement personnalisé . I’m still missing 0.5 hours in that but I’m too lazy to spot them.

*

All in all, this is pretty regular! It’s very common for French students to have Wednesday afternoons off, and I’ve yet to meet a school which doesn’t do that. We also have a lot of homework, in addition to all the classes. The system works fine for collège.

*

Now onto the Brevet! It’s a national exam.

(for the link skip to “Objectifs et socle commun”. And at the end there are some previous exams if you want to check them out)

It’s more or less equivalent to English GCSEs, I think?

It’s the lowest level official national certificate you can have that counts as a certificate of education.

It’s out of 800 points, including 400 determined by specific exams. You need minimum 400 points total to pass.

It’s four written exams: one exam in French (100 pts), one in maths (100 pts), one in history-geography (50 pts), one in science (50 pts).

AND one oral exam (100 pts). Which is basically a glorified presentation.

For French:

- worth 100 pts

- lasts 3 hours

- 3 parts (well 2 officially):

   - 50 mins: Grammar + reading comprehension + questions on a text

   - 20 mins: dictée (spelling text based on a text read aloud)

   - 1h30: writing (either text analysis or creative writing based on a prompt)

(Officially: the first two parts are together and collectively are worth 60 pts and last 1h10. The last one is 40 pts.)

For maths:

- worth 100 pts

- lasts 2 hours

For HG:

- 50 pts

- 2 hours

For science:

- 50 pts

- 1 hour

- 2 out of 3 sciences: remember how there are 3 science subjects? You get 2 out 3, randomly picked by the ministry for all of France. This also unofficially means 2 parts of the exam, so you get 30 minutes for science 1 and 30 mins for science 2. But you can do 25/35 or 50/10 no one cares.

-

-

-

-

Well, now that I’ve explained collège and the Brevet... onto the next post! Lycée!

[ardl]

yo ardl I’m trying to get back into metal in general and you are top metal poster. Would you drop like a top 5 black metal albums to check out? no pressure or rush

ye i can do that, im usually more biased towards proggy black metal these days but theres some rough shit i still like so itll be a bit of both kinds.

ulver - nattens madrigal, this is one of my favorites to come out of the 90s. the riffs are gas the sound is nasty real cult shit.

bathory - under the sign of the black mark, fuckin classic. near perfect album. like the blueprint for early black metal afaik. blazin riffs real raw.

for some more modern black metal bands, batushka - litourgiya, real real real good stuff goin on in this one. it takes a lot from eastern orthodox christianity aesthetically and really runs w/ it in a neat way. got some orthodox chants and hot damn its sick as fuck. like holy shit it goes so fucking hard.

panopticon - kentucky, coal minin appalachian folk inspired black metal, black metal & pagan inspired folk music fusions are pretty common and theres some groups that have done it real well[agalloch is probably the most well known of them?], but workin songs & black metal isnt somethin ive seen a ton of. the structure of the album is a bit typical of modern proggy black metal, soft song harsh song repeat, but the spoken word sections hold it together and tie the softer folkier parts into the harsh sections thematically.

bosse-de-nage - III, actually kind of interesting lyrics & structure of their delivery, which is weird for a black metal project. another more progressive black metal band, it takes some cues from post metal as far as structure of the songs & like the dynamic contour of the songs as a whole. their whole discog is like laser focused on like exactly what i like in harsh music.

honorable mentions: agalloch - pale folklore, real good. kinda goofy folky type of thing. fuckin loved this album in high school but it doesnt hit like it used to, probably bc of how many times i listened to it. ashes against the grain is also real good but not rly black metal.

amesouers - self titled, real good another blackgazey thing but not super black metally. neige from alcests side project but i like it more than most of alcest. alcest pretty much started blackgaze iirc?

thurm - self titled, real good, havent listened to it enough to say a ton. some type of blackened death or somethin idk its real fuckin good.

last one, feminazghul - no dawn for men. it has an accordion. and a violin. folky for sure. pretty new to me so i dont have much to say abt it.

[youcantkillamutant]

Deeper Into The Drink: Chapter III

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: ACOTAR (SJM)

Pairing: Tarquin x Black Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve always known that Cresseida would do whatever it takes to protect the Summer Court. You just didn’t realize that you were a part of that equation. So you vow to do all you can to help Cresseida and protect your court, which is proving to be difficult, what with the scheming lords of Summer, human refugees from the war, sly overtures of kindness from the Night Court and the growing desolation of the neighboring Spring Court. And yet, you think you might have been able to handle all of that, if the High Lord Tarquin wasn’t so…himself. It would have been easier still if your heart didn’t take notice of that fact.

Warnings: Depictions of violence, angst, mentions of death, slow burn (as is my custom), no smut (probably), lots of IC slander

Rating: 18+

Words:9K+

A/N: Um… Yeah idk how to explain this one honestly? I’m in my “let’s get some critical thinking going about the IC and their shitty actions” era and just can’t deal with how dirty they did Tarquin. So…yeah. I just want Tarquin to have more people on his side honestly. This story is set post-ACOSF in terms of timeline. This is my first time writing in this fandom, so be nice. Don’t like it don’t read it and all that jazz. Not Beta’d we die like men. I own nothing, all characters belong to SJM.  

Prologue |  Chapter I  |  Chapter II  |  Read on Ao3  |  Mood Board  |

A promise in the presence of a god is never forgotten.

🐚☀️🐚

As a member of the Summer Court, you assumed that sailing would come naturally to you. You’d read plenty on sailing and the makings of a ship, listened to your father talk about the perfect sailing weather, hell, you’d even made a miniature ship in school. Sure it was to show your instructors that you knew all of the parts of a basic ship, what they did and how to use them, and yes everyone had to do that as part of the curriculum, but you’d aced the project. You really did not expect it to be quite so complicated. 

There were so many ropes. 

It also didn’t help that Tarquin had shown up to your door before the sun rose, dressed like a common fisherman, wool sweater and all. Gone were the fine fabrics and golden bands of the High Lord. You almost didn’t recognize the male when he came knocking, sputtering a “Lord Tarquin?” In a higher pitch than you thought you were capable of. He grinned, and it was so much like the sun that it warmed you from head to toe. Even as he ordered you to dress in something practical, as though you were the most likely out of the two of you to not have practical clothing. 

You grumbled a bit, but dressed in linen shorts and a soft shirt, sliding a sweater over it all, forgoing any formality you might have tried to hold onto in his presence. You slipped your necklace on and tucked your father’s ring into your shirt, close to your chest, and then Tarquin winnowed the both of you onto the docks of Adriata. Now, as you laid on the deck, soaking in the sun and watching Tarquin’s fingers work the ropes deftly, you wondered if it was even worth learning to sail, when you could just watch the High Lord do everything himself. There was something to be said about an efficient, capable male…

“Alright, I know you’re a village girl, but could you at least pretend to do some actual work?” Tarquin’s tone was teasing and you had to fight to keep the corners of your mouth from lifting. Instead, you dropped your jaw and feigned shock. 

“I’ll have you know Princeling,” Tarquin lifted a brow at the title. “that as a village girl, I know exactly how to do hard work. Sailing does not seem to fall into that category.” He stalked closer to you, and you sat up on your elbows peering up at him as he blocked the sun.

“I see. My mistake my Lady.” Tarquin slid gracefully to his knees, a rope in hand. “In that case, tying this off shouldn’t be any trouble at all. Could you help a poor princeling out?” He dropped the rope into your lap and you tried your best to remember any sailor’s knot, Cauldron, you’d take any knot at all, but Tarquin was so close. He smelled of the sea and sunlight and citrus and cedars and, yeah, there was no way you’d be able to tie off…whatever this rope was for. 

“Okay, so maybe this village girl needs a sailing tutor.” You watched as he huffed a laugh, responding in kind. 

“You need only ask my Lady.” 

“How noble.” Tarquin’s face was suddenly closer than you remembered as you leaned in to tease him. Those cerulean eyes of his glinting like the sun off the sea and his full lips quirked in amusement.

“I aim to please.” It was your turn to huff a laugh and Tarquin’s turn to lean closer to you. You could see his skin even clearer now, dark and a little stubbled, like he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. You opened your mouth to quip back, happy to keep the banter going when something knocked against the boat with a thump. You jumped, grasping your chest in shock but Tarquin only rolled his eyes and leaned back. 

“I don’t have any fish for you Calliope!” Another thump and Tarquin laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him as he strode the few steps it took to make it to the side of the boat. A dolphin chittered in the waves just in front of you and Tarquin continued. “This was a spontaneous visit. I’ll bring you something later tonight.” The dolphin splashed a bit of water at us, clearly…annoyed, but swam away peacefully enough. You watched as it slid through the sea, striped skin making it look more like a painting than a real life animal. 

“You can talk to dolphins?” You knew all High Lord’s had their specialties, but you’d never expected anything like that. Tarquin snorted. 

“Cauldron no, but I can understand them.” You rolled your hands in front of you, palms up, the universal sign for ‘explain’. “When I was prince, before…everything, I spent all of my time in the sea. Mostly, I was swimming, but I worked with the local humane society as well, helping to rehabilitate creatures that needed help or had been harmed by the sea, or other fae.” He shrugged like the fact didn’t make you force yourself to refrain from swooning. “After a decade or so, I’d created a rapport of sorts with the creatures that came by. I understood their non-verbal cues and all that. Calliope came to us with a broken dorsal fin and so many wounds the water around her looked like a pool of blood. I was the only one she let near her.” 

“I don’t know what happened to her out there. She couldn’t have been more than 2 years old, too young to be without a mother, but there she was.” Tarquin’s lips drifted into a soft smile. “It took me ages to clean her up and fix her fin, and I spent more time in the water keeping her company than getting her on any sort of regimented PT plan, but we bonded.” 

“She found you here?” You had no idea how dolphins worked, only that they were smart and cunning hunters.

“She did. The day I returned from Under The Mountain, my first day in Adriata, I took a boat and sailed for an hour. I didn’t have much time, but before I turned back, I saw her. First it was her tail and I had slowed enough for her to catch up to me and splash water everywhere.” You laughed at the rueful expression on Tarquin’s face. “She was pissed that after 50 years I hadn’t brought her favorite treat. Kelp wrapped trout.” Tarquin shook his head. “Now I come to see her every few days.” Tarquin turned his gaze back out to the waves again. “I didn’t expect her to be alive. I thought — Did you know Amarantha sent her Attors to ‘fish’ our shoreline?” You shook your head, you didn’t remember hearing anything about that. “I don’t know what she did, but after Nostrus died she filled the pits with the corpses of all manner of sea creatures that we find on our shores. When I caught a glimpse of a crooked dorsal fin…” Tarquin shuddered. “I didn’t know what to think, just that I had been appointed High Lord by a tyrant and my best friend was probably dead.” Another deep breath. “It took everything I had not to dive into the pits and search for her, to pretend that Amarantha pillaging our seas meant nothing to me when really, I wanted to rip her to pieces and send her back to Hybern.” 

You looked at the male and wondered how he had kept this softness under Amarantha. By all accounts, she carved out kindness and fed it to her Attors, but Tarquin seemed to hold his kindness and softness and compassion tightly, like he would never let anyone take it. You couldn’t tell if that made you worry for him more. Tarquin, oblivious to your staring, shrugged and twisted towards the interior of the boat. The turn seemed to shake off the darkness that had haunted him.

“You requested a sailing tutor did you not?” Tarquin sketched a bow, perfectly at ease even as the boat bobbed in a wave. “Allow me my Lady.” 

For the next hour, as the sun crested the waves and warmed the sea, Tarquin taught you to sail. Well, attempted to teach you would be more accurate. You were nearly to the docks as you tied off the last rope, a poor imitation of Tarquin’s perfect work, groaning in frustration. Tarquin laughed and you shoved him knowing that the water was shallow enough for him to wade through easily if he somehow went overboard. You should have known he wouldn’t but before you could roll your eyes in annoyance of his princely perfection a scream pierced the air. The High Lord went stock still, all of the ease from the morning falling from his frame. The scream was high-pitched and keening, like an animal losing its young. You knew what Tarquin was going to do, and you grabbed his forearm before he could winnow away without you. 

☀️

The morning sun warmed the sand on the beach so much so that you could feel it through the soles of your shoes. You let the heat sink into your feet as you surveyed the crowd. There were at least fifteen fae, some blue-skinned and rail thin, others tanned and plump, but they all had the green eyes of the Spring Court. Shit. You’d spent most of your time worrying about the human refugees that you’d forgotten about the fae of Spring, who had fled to the neighboring Summer Court after their own High Lord had succumbed to a sickly sort of heartbreak. 

They all stood at the water's edge, moving away from the waves as the water lapped the shore. Tarquin didn’t spare you a glance as he approached the group and you could see they were surrounding another fae. They opened their ranks quickly to let him in, and you caught a glimpse of olive skin, terror and a finger pointing to the sea before she was swallowed by her kinsfolk once again. 

There was too much noise for you to be able to hear whatever she was saying. Even as the female shrieked and wailed, you couldn’t make out her words, so you followed the direction you’d seen her hand pointing in, where all of the other fae were looking. The sea was calm, glittering as the sun glinted off of it, but there, a few miles away from the castle, you could see something. 

You stepped closer to the surf, ignoring the water as it grasped at your ankles. You weren’t seeing something, you were seeing someone. With skin black as the bottom of the ocean and dark, unblinking eyes to match. The chatter from the surrounding fae fell away, and you could only hear the water, as though you were already slicing through it, swimming towards that creature. Another step in the surf, and you cocked your head. There was a melody drifting to your ears, voices beckoning in harmony. A few more steps and you were up to your knees. When you saw what she had, and you knew it was a female, knew that like you knew your own name, you ran straight out into the sea and dove. 

That siren had just stolen a Spring Court child. 

🐚

You’d never been entirely comfortable in water. Even as a member of the Summer Court, even though you had a mastery over the element. You supposed it was your mother’s Autumn Fire, always simmering in you, never wanting to risk being extinguished. So you’d never felt comfortable in water, but this feeling was different. The water clung to your skin, pulling you closer to the source of the siren’s symphony and you realized that you weren’t being pulled along by the water. Not those insignificant molecules. No, you were being pulled along by the Sea herself. 

You reached the siren in a matter of minutes and before you could say a word, she slipped under the water line, a silent summons to follow. You gulped a breath of air, and prayed to the Mother that you wouldn’t need to hold it too long. You’d mastered the manipulation of water early on, but rearranging the molecules into something breathable? That was a different task altogether. You followed the siren until you could feel the temperature drop and when she suddenly stopped and turned to you, a webbed hand outstretched, you reared back. 

The siren stared, her mouth, too wide to be human, quirked up in amusement. You’d need to breathe soon, and she could tell. You were well out of your depth. She approached again and you did your best to stay in place, fighting against the current threatening lazily to drag you away. Her hand reached towards you and you noticed that she only had four fingers; a thumb and three needle sharp digits all connected by a sort of translucent webbing. Quick as a whip, her hand covered your mouth, thumb sliding under your nose for one, two, three seconds. When she pulled away, your mouth opened reflexively, but instead of water rushing in, air filled your lungs. 

The siren had your arm in her hand before you could question whatever had just happened, and pulled you along. There wasn’t much you could do but stare as she guided you through the waves. She wasn’t like the sirens in the stories, shapely and more beautiful than the Highest of Fae. No, this siren was sleek, with skin like dark tourmaline and the powerful tail of an eel. There were a few additional fins running along it, the same translucent material that connected the fingers on her hand in webbing. And you couldn’t forget her face, with eyes as large as any cow’s, wide plump lips and a wide, flat, bridgeless nose. 

You prayed to the Cauldron that you hadn’t signed away your death to the sea as she slowed and a cliff came into view. A sound vibrated through the water, and one by one, more sirens emerged from the craggy cliffside. Some looking more like those of fairy tales and others looking more like the siren who still had your arm in her grasp. They all swam downwards, towards something that looked like the rough sketching of a throne room. There was a chair, larger and smoother than the rest of the chairs in the area. The chairs formed a circle around an empty space covered in silt and sand. 

Before you knew it, you were in the center of that space, and the siren that had guided you here was perched atop that throne-like cluster of chairs. The chairs surrounding you filled quickly enough, and you were left to stare at them. There was nothing particularly bloodthirsty in their gaze, only a touch of interest in some and mild annoyance in others. You waited until they had all sat before opening your mouth and praying you’d still be able to speak after whatever the siren had done to keep you breathing underwater. 

“Where is the child?” Silence. “I don’t know what you want, but—” You heard a snarl, carried on the waves around you and it pulled you up short. 

“Of course you don’t know. Your kind never seem to know much of anything. Ogea forbid your kind le—”

“Vialyn.” The sound of her name coming from the siren that pulled you here was enough to quiet her. You turned towards her again, and studied her as she sat on that throne. 

“Are you their queen?” A few melodic laughs drifted through the water and the siren smirked.

“You mortals and fae are so obsessed with defining lines of power. No, I am not the queen of my kind. We do not need governing.” At that, she sat back. “You’ll get the youngling back shortly. Your High Lord is almost here.” You had no idea how Tarquin would be able to find you. Cauldron, you didn’t even know where you were. The nearest underwater cliffs you remembered studying were well into the Southern Sea past the Rhianian Archipelago. 

Before you could ask another question, you noticed a golden light wavering in the distance. It grew closer, and closer, and suddenly you could see that it was Tarquin. He had gotten rid of his fisherman’s garb and swam closer to you and sirens in shorts and bands of gold wreathed his arms. You gulped at the sight of his bare chest, but your breath caught at the look on his face. His mouth was tight, lips pulled thin and his eyes, Gods, his eyes were darker than the waters you floated in now. Indigo and unforgiving. He cut the figure of some sort of avenging god, golden and fuming. When he swam to your side, he didn’t greet you, barely even glanced at you before turning his attention to the sirens.

“Where is the child?” His voice was commanding and the sirens leaned towards him, daring him to speak again as though they could swallow his voice whole. Perhaps they could. “I will not ask again.” A siren approached him then, grey skin sallow in the golden glow of his light.  

“Right here, Lordling.” And as she said it, the child appeared to your right. The child was encased in a bubble of air, and utterly entranced by the fish floating by on the currents. “You know children aren’t our style, never enough meat on their bones.” The siren floated closer, curling her tail around Tarquin’s back legs. “You however…You seem to have a hefty amount of meat on your bones.” She trailed a thin finger along his chest as she leaned to speak against his lips. “I think you’d make a fine dinner, High Lord.”

“Spiniel, that’s enough.” Spiniel turned a glare to the siren in charge. “The High Lord and Lady are our guests. Remember?” Your ears caught on the slip, you weren’t much of a Lady and certainly weren’t a High Lady, but it was enough for Spiniel to pull her lip in a snarl and return to her seat. Tarquin, to his credit barely even blinked. 

“Are we going to have an issue?” You could hear the question Tarquin wasn’t asking. You could practically see him trying to calculate why the sirens had chosen now to kidnap a child under the protection of the Summer Court. 

“I don’t believe so.” The siren flicked her gaze to the child, still preoccupied with the sea around him. “We will give you the child High Lord, but we must speak with your Lady first.” This time, you bit back the protest on your tongue. You were no one’s Lady. Tarquin didn’t seem to have the same restraint. 

“She is not my Lady, but I will not leave her here alone with you, nor will I leave the child.” You could feel the water 

“We are not your enemy High Lord. We know what you’ve done for the creatures that wash up on your shores. You’ve returned many friends to us.” 

“Then why—” Vialyn cut in eagerly. 

“You would do well to remember that the Sea borders your court as well High Lord. There are many in these waters that wouldn’t mind an…expansion.” Spiniel picked up where Vialyn left off. 

“Mother keeps them at bay, but…Well, you ought to pay a bit more attention to who resides in these waters,” Her voice went saccharine “if only to keep your precious younglings alive.” You could see the muscles in Tarquin’s jaw clenching and the light he emitted seemed to glow brighter. 

“I suppose you know these…creatures?” 

“Why of course High Lord.” Spiniel draped an arm around Tarquin’s shoulder. “We’d be happy to help you keep them in line.” 

“For a price.” Tarquin spat the words.

“Nothing comes for free, High Lord.” Vialyn said with a grin, and even as she nestled deeper into her chair, you could see the sharp teeth lining her lips. “And this price is nothing you cannot pay. Leave the Lady with us. Take the child.” 

“Are you threatening a High Lord?” 

“Please. The Mother cares nothing of your paltry powers and I care even less. We are doing this as a favor to you Lordling and if you are too blind to see—”

“Vialyn.” The siren stopped at her name coming from the Not-Queen’s mouth. “We are here to discuss things peacefully. I do not dare to question the Mother and why she wanted you here, but I will not hesitate to remove you from this, as I did your sister, if you continue to jeopardize things.” Vialyn curled her lips into an ugly snarl that seemed to stretch her face into something otherworldly. You could hear an angry song on the waves, bellowing rage and discordant harmonies. The Not-Queen paid her no mind. 

“We only wish to speak to your Lady, Lord Tarquin. The child was a…precaution.” 

Before Tarquin could argue, or make a scene, or do anything else, you caught his attention. You knew enough to know that the ‘Mother’ they were referring to was likely Ogea herself, goddess of the ocean. And if, on the off chance they were right about other creatures of the sea wanting more…space, you couldn’t risk it. You promised you would do everything in your power to protect this court, and now was your chance to prove it. 

“I’ll stay.” Your hand reached for Tarquin and stopped, the aborted move catching his eye. “They only want to talk.” Tarquin opened his mouth to protest, so you stopped him. “Take this child. His mother must be worried sick. I’ll be fine.” You suddenly wished you’d carried your blades on you. You hadn’t touched the longword or the dagger since the war ended, but wrapped in these waters with an audience of sirens, you wanted the comfort of that steel. 

“You should listen to your Lady, High Lord. She will be perfectly fine. We’ll return her to your sparkling city soon enough.” Tarquin looked at the siren seated at the throne once more, then turned his eye to you. They studied you quickly and you did everything you could not to betray any emotion at all. His lips pulled down in displeasure before he nodded, reaching in the child’s bubble and grabbing his hand. You didn’t bother to watch them go, instead keeping your eyes on the sirens surrounding you. It took a few seconds for the head siren to speak.

“Now that that’s taken care of, shall we talk, my Lady?” 

☀️

The siren pulled you deeper into the cliffs, and like the library, it’s face was poked with small rooms, though most of them were dark, as the creatures residing in them had no use for light at all. She stopped at a room larger and more open than the rest, and as you adjusted to the minimal light that made it to this level of the ocean you could see a collection of rocks, something like a table with two chairs beside it. She gestured for you to sit, and barely waited for you to settle before she began speaking. 

“Our kind used to work together, you know.” You did know, you’d been doing your best to remember everything you could about sirens from the time she pulled you under. You recalled the tales of Summer Court Sailors that were guided by Sirens, not to their death, but to other lands they could explore. “My sisters and I…” She twirled around you kicking up bubbles in the water. “We loved your kind. So willing to risk your lives at the promise of another land to plunder.” The Siren leaned closer to your face, and you noted her obsidian skin. How slitted gills ran along both sides of her neck and her slender form wasn’t actually slender, but emaciated. She reached up to touch your face with webbed fingers and you reared back. She let loose a grin, showing four rows of perfectly sharp teeth. Teeth that any shark would envy.

“Oh yes, your kind were wonderful. They loved us too, even sired a few of my nieces…but one day, after centuries of partnership, they stopped calling to us.” Your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Calling to you?”

“Do you honestly believe we would come out of the ocean and waste our breath on your kind if we were not called?” She fixed you with an unimpressed stare. “Your kind called to us, in the days of the Wild Hunt. They needed an escape, a new land where they couldn’t be enslaved and killed and hunted. So we helped them.” 

“And what did you request in return?” Sirens had never been known for their benevolence, and even now as the siren spoke to you like a normal fae, you could feel chaotic energy rippling through the currents, dying to do something, anything. 

“Trinkets.” The Siren continued, as though what she had said wasn’t ridiculous. “Your kind love to give objects power. This ring will burn the hand of everyone but your true love. This scarf will warm you on the coldest of nights. This pebble will help you find true North if you hold it just so.” She released a chittering sound, high pitched and grating. It took you another moment to realize it was a laugh. “The objects your kind cradle and caress and protect hold a power of their own. Raw power, given freely to little pieces of gold and rock and fabric. Ogea says it’s delicious. We prefer flesh, but we are not in the business of questioning our goddess.” The Siren shrugged as though this Ogea person was crazy for her dietary choices. 

“So, we got you trinkets and you led us to new lands.” She tilted her head slowly like a predator peering at prey, but her tail swished back and forth quickly, like an excited animal. “But we stopped calling.” The Siren nodded slowly, picking up where you left off.

“You stopped calling, and our Goddess starved.” The Siren was back in your face now, pulling at your cheeks. You shuddered at the slippery feel of her hands. “Our Goddess starved, then she raged. She crashed the shore, gobbled up your ships in search of food, but there was nothing and your kind only moved further inland until her ire receded. We were stuck in her wrathful waves, my sisters and I. All because your kind stopped calling.” Her grip tightened and you tried to remember what you’d read about the sirens and their gods. 

You’d read about plenty of gods, but the Goddess of the sea — Ogea…There was never much about oceanic gods. Most of the creatures that inhabited the sea had no desire to wash ashore, and even if they did, it’s not like any fae would have been able to understand their languages and dialects, let alone write their stories. Ogea was one of the Elder Gods, reigning over the seas while her sisters controlled the land and sky. You couldn’t remember if she truly was a wrathful goddess or not, but it probably didn’t matter. The sirens were clearly much closer to their gods than the fae had ever been to theirs, and had lived through an angry ocean. That did not bode well, so instead of trying to remember what you’d read about Ogea, you tucked away the information the siren was giving you, and prayed it was true. The most important being that the “raw power” Ogea fed on wasn’t raw power at all…it was belief. And the fae of the Summer Court stopped feeding her centuries ago. 

Our Goddess starved. You had a feeling that the Goddess wasn’t the only one starving. 

You shook your head lightly, dislodging the Siren’s hands. If she wanted to collect a debt, she could certainly drown you and be done with it, but there was a reason she had told you this. A reason she had orchestrated a kidnapping. You just weren’t quite sure why. 

“Was it a bargain we broke?” The Siren hadn’t mentioned anything, and you weren’t sure that the brand of a bargain could mark her skin, but it was the only thing you could think of. The only reason you could think of for a creature to hold on to the past like this. 

“Not a bargain, no.” Her grip tightened. “A promise. Your kind hold your pretty bargains in higher respect these days, apparently you need the visual reminder to actually do what you said you would.” She released a guttural growl and you did you best to stay still. “But we do not. We remember.” Your breath released a column of bubbles, but you kept your eyes on the siren. “Your kind promised all those centuries ago, to provide our Mother with food from every journey we guided them on. They also promised that each crew member would drop a trinket into the sea during each voyage. Your ancestors stopped calling, which was a blow, but the true destruction came when they sailed far and wide without dropping a single thing into the sea.” You could see that the siren was getting worked up. Not quite angry, but a boiling rage, like the churning of the sea, slow to start but utterly destructive. You asked the only thing you could think of. 

“What is your name?” She grinned, those sharp teeth glinting like pearls. She knew what you were doing, could feel your fear building in your stomach. Still, she allowed the distraction.

“You may call me Istoria.” 

“Istoria, what exactly do you want from me?” And what do you think I can provide?

“I’m so glad you asked, my Lady.” Istoria fixed those dark eyes on you, leaning forward to rest an angular chin on a palm of webbed fingers. “Since it’s the only thing your kind recognizes these days, I want to make a bargain.”

🐚

“Have you lost your mind?” Tarquin had been asking you some variation of this for the past few minutes. When you emerged on the shore of Adriata, Tarquin was waiting, face pulled tight in anger and frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place. His gaze fell to the tattoo on your wrist, golden waves circling the bone and glittering as you shook the water off of your skin. A muscle worked in his jaw, but he said nothing, giving you just enough time to notice that the beach was empty before he winnowed you to the steps of the palace. He began his inquisition the second your sandals hit the stone. You’d been arguing with him through your entire ascent and well into the palace hallways. 

“Our ancestors made a promise Tarquin. We can’t ignore them again.” 

“A promise from centuries ago is not our debt to pay. They could have killed you.” Tarquin’s voice was a pitch higher than you were used to, and though you recognized his worry, you were not a child to be coddled. You came to Adriata to protect your court, and if making a bargain with a siren was what you had to do, you were going to do it. 

“And they didn’t. They asked for—” Food. You stopped short, unsure of how to explain it to him. Tarquin didn’t seem all that spiritual in the time you had known him, which admittedly was not particularly long at all. You had no doubt that he would be skeptical that the goddess of the ocean was even real let alone that she fed on belief. 

“I don’t care what they asked. A centuries old promise is not a debt we need to pay.”

“You don’t need to repeat yourself, High Lord. I heard you the first time, though it doesn’t seem that you’re at all interested in listening to me.” Tarquin opened his mouth to speak, but you raised your hand to stop him, annoyance building in you like a sparked flame. “It will cost us nothing Tarquin. They’re starving and we can—” Before you could finish, you ran smack dab into someone.  

A hand came to wrap around your waist, and pushed you closer into a chiseled, tawny chest. Your head snapped up, and you were caught in the eyes of the sun, a golden gaze so beautiful it almost burned you to look at it. The male, and as you blinked you noticed that it was a male and not some sort of Solar God come down to grace the lands of Prythian, smiled down at you, bemused. He released you gently and you took a step back, bumping your back against Tarquin’s chest. 

“Are we interrupting a lover’s quarrel Cresseida?” You hadn’t noticed Cresseida by the male’s side, and turned to her dazed, as she laughed. Tarquin however, pulled you back another step then slid away from you. 

“It’s nothing Helion.” The male, Helion snorted. “And you would do well to keep your hands to yourself.” You shot Tarquin a glare that clearly said this conversation wasn’t over, which he dutifully ignored. 

“I think the Lady would say differently.” Helion smirked, but made no move towards you and then, finally your brain caught up. Helion. Helion. Helion Spell-Cleaver. High Lord of the Day Court. Owner of illustrious libraries. Oh Gods. 

“Why are you even here? Don’t you have your own court to run?” Cresseida’s brow rose in surprise, and that was enough to tell you that Tarquin was genuinely pissed. 

“The court runs itself at this point.” He grinned, a charming, glittering thing. “Besides, don’t tell me that I can’t come check on my favorite nephew.” Tarquin snorted stepping closer to Helion and further away from you. 

“We aren’t even related.”

“So this is how you treat your family? I winnowed all the way here to see you and you dismiss me like last night’s feast. You wound me nephew, truly.” Tarquin rolled his eyes.

“Fine Uncle, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Helion preened at the words, expertly ignoring Tarquin’s exasperation. 

“Much better.” Helion turned to you. “I am actually here for business, but before I get into that, you must introduce me to the female that is so keen on honoring promises.” 

“Helion, this is my best friend, my sister really—“ Before Cress could finish her introduction, the High Lord sauntered closer to you, drawling your name and stunning you into silence.

“You’ve got your father’s nose.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “He was a good male, and an even better drinking partner.” Helion grinned, and you could swear the sun shone just a bit brighter. 

“That’s interesting, my father didn’t have quite the same things to say about you.” Helion barked a laugh, and draped an arm over your shoulder. 

“I’m sure he didn’t, lovely girl.” Normally, you bristled at endearments like that coming from anyone, but Helion was High Lord, and truly, he reminded you of your father in some distant comforting way. “No, your father was a cunning sort of man. Kind, only with those he deemed necessary. I was surprised that he left the Court circuit at all, let alone to move to a village.” You turned to look him directly in the eye, brow lifted in challenge. “Now I can see why. He clearly had something lovely to protect.” 

“He did more than protect me.” You didn’t have to explain that he taught you everything you knew. He could see it, in the mask that slipped over your face, just as quick and cunning as your father’s. 

“I can see that.” He turned to Cresseida. “You’ve brought another wolf into your court, Cresseida. I almost feel sorry for the sheep.” Cress shrugged, cutting a grin at Helion as he let out a booming laugh. 

☀️

You’d found the one thing in Adriata that you couldn’t find in the farmlands of the Summer Court. Floating cafés. They were a marvel you’d never even thought to consider, but as you drifted on a wooden circle large enough for four lushly lined lounge chairs and a table all wrapped with sun bleached banisters and draped in a gauzy net that kept out insects and peering eyes, you thought that maybe, you’d found a little piece of a truly blessed afterlife. Then Cresseida opened her mouth. 

“Yesterday my cousin was gazing at you with stars in his eyes and today he looked like he wanted to lock you up. What in the Cauldron is going on between you two?” Helion leaned forward, hands beneath his chin. 

“I must admit, I am curious to know what had our little Tarquin wound so tight.” You rolled your eyes at the High Lord and could tell why your father had spoken of him with fond annoyance. 

“Nothing is going between us.” Especially after this morning. The thought of Tarquin being upset with you rankled, but what did he truly expect you to do? Cower in fear? Leave a helpless child underwater? Wait for him to save you?  You brushed off the thoughts. “But I may have made a bargain with a siren.” Cresseida spit out her drink as Helion sat back, brows raised. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was impressed. Cresseida was not. 

“Tell me everything.” 

So you explained your morning, from the Spring Court child to the sirens and their thinly veiled threats. When you got to your conversation with Istoria, Cress was gaping at you, and Helion appeared thoughtful. You kept most of your sailing with Tarquin to yourself. Cresseida was your best friend, but something made you want to keep the memory of the morning sun and jute ropes scratching your fingers close. Probably because, after that argument with Tarquin, you might not get another morning like it. 

“Interesting.” Helion clasped his hands together casually. “I’ve heard stories of Ogea and her children. The sirens were one of her first creations, so it wouldn’t surprise me that they still serve her after all this time.” 

“They seem very loyal. And…reverent? I’ve never—We don’t worship gods like that anymore. I’m not sure our kind has ever been so closely bound to our creator.” You thought back to the Sirens, and how, even though they appeared vicious, they seemed…hungry. Like the hunger of Ogea echoed through their own bodies. 

Helion nodded, studying you from his lounger. You met his eyes and wondered what he saw. He was the oldest fae you’d ever met and yet he appeared guileless and youthful. He clearly cared for Cress and Tarquin, despite them not being blood related. You recalled that he had also been Under the Mountain, that he and his court had suffered horrible atrocities at the hands of Amarantha and her ilk. You wondered how he kept even a fraction of that energy, and wondered if there was a threshold to what could truly change you after centuries of life. He nodded imperceptibly, and must have found whatever he was looking for in you, because he spoke again. 

“Ogea and her children…They were around before even the Daglan. Ogea herself was the world, before the Cauldron poured its power to pull land from the sea and coat it in magic. Ogea had her own power, her own motivations. There are some bonds that cannot be broken, especially if you and your creator are the only beings in existence.” 

“Well shit.” It was more Cress’s voice than her words that broke the spell of your conversation. You snorted and began to giggle, turned to Cress. “Honestly! That’s serious shit girl. No wonder Tarquin was so freaked out! You made a deal with old magic. Magic that’s even older than Helion here.” Helion made an indignant sound as your laughter simmered to silence. 

“I told you I’d protect this court.”

“I know you did. You did the right thing.” With those words, a knot loosened in your chest. You hadn’t even realized you needed to hear it, but now that you had…you felt leagues better. “Speaking of old fae,” She turned to Helion. “Uncle, you’re probably the oldest fae I know, and I wanted to ask about Koschei.” 

Helion’s expression shuttered, and you could swear that the sun dimmed. Cresseida stared at Helion, waiting. He shook his head, looking more disapproving and adult than you’d seen him so far. A few more silent moments passed before he spoke. 

“First of all, I am not that old. Second, your persuasion skills need work. And third, why in Cauldron’s sake do you want to know about Koschei?”

“So you know something.”

“Of course I know something! I know that when your niece asks you about a Death God, you ask her what the hell she’s gotten herself into!” There was a trickle of fear in his voice, something you’d never thought you’d hear from this male even after only knowing him for a few hours. Cress’s expression mirrored your own, and you leaned back as she drew closer to Helion. 

“What do you know, Uncle?” Helion was shaking his head, eyes begging Cresseida to drop the subject. He should have known she’d do the opposite. Perhaps he did. “During the war, I heard Rhysand speaking his name. Considering the leash they had on their own Death Gods, I suspected it was important.” Helion’s lips pursed at her words. 

“So you want information to what? Sate your jealousy?” Cress and I made the same noise of disgust. 

“I want this information because I am sick of having to wait until males like Rhysand deem me worthy of it. He may be the most powerful High Lord we’ve ever seen, but if our world is at risk, he does not get to keep that information to himself until him and his merry band of bat-winged bastards are ready to be saviors once again.”

Helion sighed. He knew she was right. And he knew we knew he had information. Still, he was clearly fighting with himself. He waved his hand and a waiter appeared. 

“Please refill our drinks and bring us one of everything in the pastry case.” The waiter nodded and disappeared. Cress narrowed her eyes but Helion shrugged. “What? If you really want to know, we’ll need drinks, and since we aren’t on your lovely pleasure barge, we’ll make do with caffeine. And you know I’m a nervous eater.” The water returned with a tray laden with three drinks and colorful pastries on pastel colored porcelain. Only when the fae left did Helion speak. 

“What do you know of the Dread Trove?” 

🐚

You hadn’t spoken to Tarquin in days. Hell, you hadn’t seen Tarquin since you left him in the halls of the palace, fuming. You weren’t avoiding him, not really, but you didn’t know what to say. He’d been worried about your safety, which felt strange. You hadn’t had anyone, especially not a male worry after you like that since your father, and that was decades ago. His worry chafed at you, actually. Did he truly think you couldn’t take care of yourself? That just because you were a member of his court, you would need his constant protection? You were training with a longsword while he was wading through the sea, playing veterinarian, he had no right to—

You slammed the book shut, stopping your train of thought. You’d had this argument in your head plenty of times, and you needed to return to the task at hand. You were in the library, toggling between research on Koschei, Ogea, and human festivals. The latter and of course the most pressing, had the least information. Your idea of throwing a welcome festival for the humans was solid, but it was also your project. Cresseida was busy ensuring that the humans had the daily supplies they needed, and studying the land left from fallen Summer Court citizens to see what could be left to the humans and how exactly to break the news to the Lords of Summer. 

Adding your bargain with Istoria in the mix gave you a headache. You promised to have the people of Summer feed Ogea once a year, and in return, the Sirens would ensure the creatures of the deep remained in the bowels of the sea. You knew the festival would be the perfect time to do it, but you had to frame it perfectly. After all, getting fae and human alike to separate from their things was an exercise in manipulation. It was the one thing we held in common, our desire to possess things. 

Pressing your fingers tight around your fathers ring, you reached for another depressingly thin book on human customs. Before you could grab your pen to attempt to take notes, a figure blocked the light. Turning, you bit back a groan as you saw Lord Karrian standing at the entrance to your little nook. He shot you a grin that curdled your stomach. The Summer Lord sauntered into the room, letting his gaze glide over the table and books and chairs around you. When he settled back on you, you wanted to wipe the whole place clean. 

“Lord Karrian, this is a surprise.” You kept your voice flat, unsure, but not stupid enough to let it show.

“Yes, well, I’ve heard you’ve become fond of our little library. I thought I might find you here.” 

“And why were you looking for me, Lord?” 

“It has come to my attention that, as a new member of our Court, you haven’t been given the proper…introduction.” Your head tilted a fraction of an inch, face remaining impassive. “Myself and a few of the other Lords have been rulers for some time. We do our best to lead the young High Lord to the right decisions for Summer.” Karrian’s face pinched up into a small smile, as though these Lords had found Tarquin’s rule endearing. “Our people weren’t built for change. Cauldron knows that the drastic changes the High Lord dreams of could incite a riot, or worse.” You didn’t need to guess the ‘worse’ he was alluding to, the male reeked of violent opportunism. 

“While I appreciate the…introduction of Lord Karrian, I fail to see why any of this is relevant to me. I am the Princess’s advisor.” 

“Ah but we have heard that the High Lord has taken a liking to you, my Lady.” Whoever his source was, clearly hadn’t heard about your spat with Tarquin or the subsequent icing out you’d done to each other. Interesting. “And while there will never truly be Ladies of Summer, we males are not foolish enough to ignore the power of a female.” You ground your teeth, determined to let the male dig his own grave. “Should you decide to use your…power to wield the High Lord for us, for the security of the Summer Court really, we would forever be in your debt. You could certainly secure your future, not to mention the stability you’d offer the thousands of fae within our borders.” 

“I assure you Lord Karrian, I can and will secure the best for our Court without wielding any male.” You couldn’t resist the bite in your voice or the fire that built in your palms. “Though I wonder what kind of future you and your Lords are interested in securing for all citizens in our court.” You let your gaze drift down his form disdainfully, then back up to his eyes. “I wonder, if perhaps, you may need to start practicing your ability to wield weapons Lord Karrian. My father once told me that this was a court of wolves, but all I see standing before me is a sheep.” 

You gathered your books and notes as the Lord studied you, ready to leave now that he’d tainted the space with his leers and suggestions and idiocy. It took all you had to do so leisurely, but you knew you had to play this right. Karrian would be suspicious of you now. After all, he’d admitted to attempting to coerce the High Lord into decisions that benefited himself and his cronies. You were only the Advisor to the Princess now, there was no telling what you could become or what you could do with that information.

“My Lady, I urge you to tread carefully. The castle may be warmed by the sun, but it's halls are full of shadows.” 

☀️

As annoying as it was, Lord Karrian’s words got to you. I mean, really “its halls are full of shadows”? Who talks like that? The words were probably true, but the sense of foreboding they gave you was the most irritating thing about the whole interaction. As ridiculous as Lord Karrian’s “warning” had been, you knew that it was high time you had your own source of information for the Summer Court. As a courtier, you could find out as much about the surficial high society portion of court life, but if you wanted to have an advantage at all times you needed more information. Your father had his own ways of gathering intel, and though most of his secrets were likely outdated, they would probably be enough to barter with if you were desperate. Still you knew you needed fresh intel, and since you hadn’t spoken to the Spymaster in ages, Cauldron, you weren’t even sure if Jellasa still was the spymaster, you decided you’d need to find your own spy. 

But before any of that could happen, you needed a break from the palace. Which is why you found yourself on the docks of Adriata, inhaling the scent of sea salt and smoked fish. With the sea to your right and the people of Adriata bustling by your left, you found yourself walking at a comfortable pace, not quite a stroll but quick enough to go somewhere. The sun glittered off the sea, and in the corner of your eye you saw light flashing on the sand. 

Continuing your walk, you did your best to settle your mind. In all honesty, you never expected to feel quite so…frenetic in Adriata. When Cresseida asked you to join her, you figured it would be simple enough. But with the humans, her inquiry about Koschei, sirens and Tarquin, you were surprised to find yourself feeling…full. Perhaps not settled or even happy, but the questions gave your purpose, the idea of finding answers skittered excitement down your spine. 

Stopping at a stall smaller than most, you purchased a few pieces of saltwater taffy from a green-skinned fae. Again, you saw a flash of light like the one you saw in the sand, but this time, it was much closer. It was like the fragments of a mirror were glinting in the sun, but it disappeared quickly enough, and you returned to your walk a bit more alert, but fairly distracted by the mouthwatering taffy. 

Your thoughts floated back to the humans, and the invitation that Tarquin had extended to you before all the stuff with the sirens had happened. The agreed upon meeting was set for tomorrow, and you hadn’t heard anything from Tarquin. You weren’t sure if he would even remember to bring you with how icily he’d been treating you, but if he left you at the palace, you could just have Cresseida winnow you to the estate. Tarquin could be ass pissed as he wanted, but you were here to help, and you wouldn’t let—  

The light flashed again as it had been doing for the past few planks on the boardwalk. When it flashed again, you could have sworn there was a figure wreathed in that light. But you blinked and the vision was gone. You walked a few more steps, spine straight. Someone was following you. You thought for a second that Lord Karrian had sent someone to tail you in response to your conversation, he was clearly a male who had others do his dirty work for him, but whoever this being was, was well hidden. Karrian was not known for his subtlety. 

Unsure of what was following you, you veered towards the shoreline, crossing the hot sand and wincing as it heated the soles of your sandals. The light flashed in the corner of your eye as you walked, getting closer and closer as you neared the water. Just before you reached the sea, you felt something at your hip, just near your coin purse. Initially, you thought perhaps the wind off the waves was moving your coin purse, but the motion was so similar to that of someone reaching into your purse and pulling that you couldn’t stop your instincts. 

You grabbed for your coin purse, and caught…flesh? There was a yelp, a flash of light and then a child stood before you scowling. 

“Ouch!” She was a slip of a thing. Skin as dark as yours, glittering blue eyes and no taller than your hip. “Let me go!” The girl had an attitude and you did your best to withhold your smirk. Still you loosened your grip on her wrist. Not enough to allow her to get away, but you’d removed the pressure on her small bones.

“Mind telling me what exactly you were trying to do with my coin purse?”

“Steal it. Obviously.” You nearly laughed at her expression. Pure incredulous annoyance pulled her features into a familiar face that had gotten you into your fair share of trouble as a child. 

“And why are you trying to steal my things?”

“The butcher won’t hire me until I turn 13.” She said it with a shrug, and you wondered why in the Cauldron a child was worried about getting a job. 

“How old are you?” 

“10. I’ll be eleven in 2 months though.” She was clearly excited about the prospect. 

“And your name?” The girl sealed her lips shut, jaw clenching as she peered up at you. At her hesitance, you gave her your own name, but it did nothing to loosen her lips.

“Dad says—said that names have power.” She paused, as if waiting to see if you’d interrupt her. You merely nodded at the truth of her words. “He told me to never give mine freely.” 

“And what would you like in return, for your name?” The child studied you, blue eyes flashing in the sunlight. 

“Lunch. For a week.” She held up a finger, stopping you from saying a word. “Anything I want!”

“How about anything that can be found in Adriata?” You had a feeling that the child didn’t realize she was crafting a bargain, but you certainly did. The girl nodded quickly, eyes alight. “It’s a deal.” 

She gasped as a tattoo stretched across your fingers, thin lines, like roots, crawled from your knuckles to your nails on your right hand. The girl rubbed her stomach through her threadbare shirt and you could see the shadow of shape forming on the skin there. Still, she grinned, grabbing your hand and leading you away from the water.

“My name’s Bilal. Let’s go eat!”

🐚

When you were sitting at another floating cafe, table laden with more food than you thought any 10 year old could eat (though she was doing her level best to change your mind, and disgust you in the process) you asked the question that had been tugging at the back of your mind. 

“Where are your parents Bilal?” She didn’t stop shoveling food into her mouth, but her shoulders drew close to her ears. 

“They died in the war.” Your heart clenched at that. You were technically an orphan now too, but you weren’t a child any longer, you couldn’t begin to imagine it. But Bilal was clearly living it. 

“Do you have any other family?” Her shoulder’s grew tighter and her chewing slowed “Or anyone to tell you that stealing can get you in quite a bit of trouble?” You ended your remark with a teasing tone and a small smile, eager to see her shoulders relax. It didn’t quite work.

“It’s been working out fine for me.” She said the words lightly, but her fork pushed the food around her plate aimlessly. “How’d you notice me anyways? Most people can’t see me when I bend the light.”

“It that what it’s called? Bending light?” You’d never seen a fae do what she had done. Bending the light around her to change what others saw. It was certainly a powerful skill, something plenty of full grown fae would have killed for. Bilal just shrugged. 

“Dunno. Dad said the light used to sing around me when I was a baby. I’ve always just been able to hear the frequencies. When I hum at the right tone, the light does what I want. Usually.” Lightsinger. Bilal was a Lightsinger. Cauldron. “I’ve never met anybody else that could do it though. Mom and Dad said I was a gift from the Cauldron, but I don’t know.” You waited, sensing she had more to say. “I couldn’t have been that good of a gift if they didn’t stay—” She sniffed wetly. “And why would the Cauldron give me to them if they were supposed to die?” 

Your heart broke at the question. Bilal had clearly been through things during the war, and you were ashamed to realize you hadn’t truly thought of the children affected. Hell, you’d lost your father in the war, it was no surprise that other children had lost their parents. It made you wonder even more where Bilal was staying, and what other children like her were doing to survive.

“Bilal, the Cauldron wouldn’t—” The girl didn’t let you finish your sentence, cutting you off with a question. 

“Can you give me a job?” Your brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why she was so adamant about working. She was only 10 for Cauldron’s sake. “Your coin purse is heavy, you already paid for all this food, your clothing is fine, you’re pretty and you approached the boardwalk from the palace.” You were impressed at all she’d been able to glean from you today. She was certainly sharp. “Are you a princess? Can I work for you?” There was a hint of desperation in the child’s voice and you knew right then, that you’d do anything you could to help her. You also knew you’d need to find a way to help other children like her. In a city as rich as Adriata, no child should have to worry about working or striking bargains for food. No adult fae should have to either, but that was a bigger discussion. 

“Do you like stealing Bilal?” It was the girl’s turn to look at you in confusion. “It’s not a trick question, I’m merely curious. I want to find the best position for you in Court.” Her eyes grew as wide as the sun, and she grinned. Wiggling in her seat with excitement, she answered.

“I don’t really like stealing, but I like sneaking. Playing with the light is fun. I get to sing all day.” You chuckled at her admission. Sneaking. Perhaps you would need to contact the Court Spymaster after all. “Do you want me to steal? Whaddayah want me to steal?” Bilal leaned her elbows on the table, chin moving in her hands as she chewed another mouthful of food. 

“If you’re interested, I’d like you to steal secrets.” 

________________________________________________

A/N: Sirens!!!!!!!! I’ve always found them interesting and creepy and scary. I also have to stan because…Y’all sing so fucking hard that men canNOT help but come find you and drown to their death in the process?! We support women’s wrongs here. I named her Istoria which I pulled from the greek word istoriográfos meaning historian (if anyone cares). 

Tarquin obviously lost his shit when he found out You went down there alone, knowing just how dangerous they can be. 👀 

I pulled my Inspo for Helion from this post because I love the idea of Helion, Cresseida and Tarquin’s dynamics being that of a dysfunctional fae family. 

Bilal is quickly becoming my favorite OC I’ve written so far. She’s adorable and when I thought of her, my brain was like “duh, this is exactly what You are looking for, even if you don’t know if yet.”

We don’t really know much about Lightsingers in the ACOTAR verse except that Gwyn probably is one and I love Gwen so it all works out. I imagine that like Shadowsingers can manipulate and speak to shadows, Lightsingers can do the same with light. Given that light affects what you see, I played around with the idea that Bilal can manipulate the light around her to make her seem “invisible” powerful stuff for a 10 year old, but she can handle it. 😉 

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Hickory rose coffee, tahini pancakes, and afternoon hikes

I feel like it’s been forever since I last visited Peace Coast Island, especially outside the city. Like Rosevine and Wizpire, I’d say that Peace Coast Island is another one of those places that I would consider a second home. Now that I’m back I really feel like I should come down here more - it’s one of those you never really know what you missed until you come back kind of thing. I’m not as familiar with the mountains so I really should take the time to explore the area.

I’m with Jamie - another long overdue reunion - along with Lisbeth, Frank, and Aisling, and we’re staying at Sunrise Bed and Breakfast. Jamie happens to know the owner’s brother, a hip hop artist who’s currently visiting family and helping out at the inn. I vaguely remember Anthony from somewhere - he says the same - but we can’t quite recall exactly. Either way, it’s nice to meet him again.

The bed and breakfast has been run by the DeFellipe family since it opened almost 70 years ago. Joannie, Anthony’s sister is in charge now so their parents can sit back a bit. They said if possible then they’d like to keep it a family business. It really is a charming place, simple but also unique in its own way with its homey vibe.

Out here in the mountains is obviously a lot different compared to the city, something I never really got to appreciate about this island. Most people stop by the bed and breakfast to explore the mountains and I can see the appeal.

Hadley, Chris, and Celestia often make trips up there to camp and go rock climbing when they have the time. so they’re quite familiar with this area. Maybe I should call them up the next time I show up here - they always know the best places to go hiking. It’s been forever since I hung out with any of the Starlight Fam, especially now that a couple of them are constantly traveling, so it’ll be nice to catch up with them.

Along with the scenery, another highlight of the bed and breakfast is the menu. As far as I know, this is probably the only place that serves tahini pancakes, which is why it’s one of their specialties. The pancakes are light and fluffy with a bit of nuttiness and bitterness. I wouldn’t say it’s a savory pancake but it’s less sweet than the usual. I can see the hype as the unusual flavor surprisingly goes with a lot of things. Me being more of a savory breakfast person prefer them with eggs and bacon but they go really well with fruit and maple syrup too.

Hickory rose coffee is another specialty and probably my favorite drink at the moment. It pairs well with the tahini pancakes along with pretty much everything else. I think I prefer the iced coffee because it tends to be a bit strong so oat milk and ice balances it out.

With Joannie’s permission, Anthony showed us around the inn’s kitchen. If I remember correctly, Amber Ross of Amber’s Kitchen, was a high school classmate of Anthony’s, and it was her vlog of the bed and breakfast that made this place noticed. Since then, a few more social media figures showed up and over the years traffic has slowly increased. Joannie says running the place can get hectic at times but it’s still manageable for the family and she hopes it stays that way. It’s no 5 star grand hotel but they make enough to live comfortably without having to worry about a lot of things or overworking themselves.

Paisley has been busy with Mount Barley, RFD, which has been renewed for another season, along with a few other projects on the side. She mentioned working on a book last year but that had to be put on hold as Mount Barley took priority. She still hasn’t made her directorial debut yet but I think she’s hinting at something based on some of her social media posts - and Robert’s too.

Frank’s still doing a bit of everything - acting, photography, video editing - he’s also started doing streams and hopes to do more of that in the future. For now, acting’s his main thing as he just finished a show and in a couple weeks he’s got a recording session and some auditions. For now he’s taking a short break since his schedule will get super busy later on.

Aisling is a friend of Jamie’s who I met a couple times but never really got to know. It’s been a little over a decade since she returned to the states so she’ll be staying for a while. She’s originally from Manila - her mother was from Cork and she spent a semester in the Philippines where she ended up staying and got married. Since her mother died shortly after she was born, Aisling was raised by her father, who teaches English, so she grew up speaking English and Filipino.

In college, Aisling went to study abroad in LA for a semester, which was how she met Jamie. The two kept in touch afterwards and a couple years later Aisling returned for grad school. She had originally planned to stay until she got her master’s degree but after graduating she decided to work for about a year to gain some experience first. Then she met this guy and a year turned into three. Before she knew it, she was getting engaged.

Unfortunately things didn’t pan out so well for Aisling. While running around preparing for the wedding she started feeling ill and initially assumed that it was a combination of stress and nerves. Later it turned out that she was HIV positive as a result of a blood transfusion she got as a child from a serious accident. She got lucky that it was caught early enough that she wasn’t in any danger as long as she followed precautions and kept up with her meds. Jamie credits Steve for helping Aisling, not just for getting her checked out as soon as he noticed something was off, but also for providing emotional support when things went downhill.

As for Aisling’s fiance, he was not so accepting much to everyone’s dismay. Apparently he and his family were old fashioned in the bad way so he saw HIV as a stigma. He ended up breaking the engagement - Aisling said she found out in the worst possible way when he got into an argument with Steve about her condition. Knowing Steve, he definitely called that guy out on his bullshit. He’s not just a kind and compassionate doctor, he’s also the kind of person who won’t hesitate to confront people with the truth no matter how ugly it can get.

Things got rough for Aisling after the breakup but in retrospect it was for the best. Jamie and Steve stood by her side during that time and she eventually got through it. Sometime later Aisling approached Steve about whether she’s allowed to travel overseas to visit home. He surprised her by suggesting that she move back home seeing that there’s nothing stopping her from doing so and he felt it would be better for her to be close to family. Jamie agreed with him. After thinking it over she decided to move back home, promising to return someday.

Now that she’s back, Aisling has a lot of catching up to do. Like her father, she teaches English, as well as Irish, Japanese, and Arabic. In terms of health she’s been doing well and hasn’t had any serious complications. Of course, one of the first things she did was ring up Jamie and Steve to let them know she was coming. Her first stop was LA where she’s been staying with Steve and now she’s traveling with Jamie for a while before going back to Steve’s and then home.

Even though she hasn’t left yet Jamie’s urging Aisling to come back again, preferably in less than a decade. Aisling says she can’t make promises but she hopes to return in a couple years. I get it, sometimes life can take us on unexpected twists and turns, so even when things seem certain, there is no guaranteed. Whether she returns or not in the future, I’m glad that Aisling’s making the most of her visit. Besides, Jamie’s the traveler so it’s easier for her to go to Aisling - which she has, by the way, but only for a short time as the visits had been in between travels.

After enjoying hickory rose coffee and tahini pancakes, we go up for a hike in the mountains. By hiking I mean we’d walk around somewhere until we find a nice spot to settle down in. The weather’s been warming up but not enough for long hikes so we figured a picnic is good enough. Along with food and drinks we also brought stuff to do so we can just chill outside.

I brought along my latest knitting project, a shirt that’ll be perfect for spring weather. It’s a seamed piece, something I haven’t done in a long time, so I’m starting with the back. The pattern involved half-fisherman’s rib, something I’ve heard about but never done before until now. It’s one of those things that sounds intimidating but it actually isn’t. The knit below stitch is new for me and it creates an interesting effect.

The shirt is basically two pieces that’ll be seamed together. From what I gather, the back piece is pretty much a big rectangle, so that’s pretty straightforward. The front looks like it has this v-neck shape with half-fisherman’s rib detailing that looks like I need to pay extra close attention to. I’ve only gotten about 1/4 of the back done and so far it’s looking good.

As much as I want to make more knitted garments I know I have to slow down for my wrist’s sake. I’ve been wearing a wrist brace at night and I think it’s been helping. I just have to remind myself that it’s important to pace myself and know my own limits. There’s no point in doing something you enjoy if you end up hurting yourself over it.

After working on raglan sweaters, it’s nice to have a change of pace and work on something different. Like I said, half-fisherman’s rib has been nice to work with and I think I feel a bit more confident about attempting full fisherman’s rib and brioche (are they the same? I’m still not sure as I’ve herd people use both) as they are similar.

I’m also interesting in trying short rows since they’re used in some sweater patterns I would like to try out. I’ve watched some tutorials out of curiosity and from my basic understanding, it creates a curved shape. As for how you do it, I don’t really understand. Then again, I’m more of a hands on person so it’ll probably make sense when I actually try it. Well, that’ll be something for later.

While I’m knitting - and journaling occasionally - Aisling has been working on a punch needle rug. I’ve always been curious about this kind of craft so I’m glad to see it in person. Aisling showed me the basics - she says she’s still a bit of a newbie with the craft  but she’s obviously had a lot of practice. Now that I kinda get how it works, I’m considering finally giving it a try.

Paisley brought her notebook and tablet to do some writing and journaling as well. She’s been busy with work so she needs time to unwind and a change of scenery always helps. Something about the cool mountain air seems to help clear the mind and reignite some creative sparks.

Jamie and Frank are really the only ones hiking around, though the rest of us join them every now and then. Frank brought his camera to take pictures while Jamie’s working on brushing up her cartography skills. I could never be a cartographer, not with my bad sense of direction. Again, if it were a bit more warmer, we’d be taking more time to explore the area.

Read on AO3

[ya-jirushi]

Tsurune Audio Drama: A Shot of Color 3 Kirisaki Ranking

Kirisaki gets to have fun sometimes we love to see it. Apologies with the lateness I have a pretty big school project in the works sooo yeah. But I also just really wanted to have this out especially this week because Kabashima and Yushima's seiyuu also voice Kacchan's former teammates! So I thought it was nice timing, accidentally. Also did you guys know these two didn't have first names until like. Now. I didn't, it was wild trying to remember their names. Notes: -the word used is actually 'vote' but they were discussing the results already so it felt weird to not mention that -the term here is 'looking down on something' it didn't really fit in context literally but the general idea is that Kabashima is speaking about the results and Shuu's background as if he's removed from being involved in the poll and he's 'above all that', basically -okay I tried to look up what a tsundera was and I didn't really get anything that made sense unfortunately, the term def exists tho so I'll come back and edit this when I know what it means!! (atm my guess is he is tsun yet someone admirable so like. teratera. sparkly) EDIT: This edit came faster than I thought it would but update on the tsundera thing! It's the mix of tsuntsun (I'm sure yall know what tsun means but if you don't its someone that's kinda prickly/mean/unapproachable on the outside) and deradera which means shiny or slippery! In this context my guess is that they mean he's sly (slippery) basing it on how Nikaido is.

Kabashima: *sighs* Yushima: Oh, welcome back, Kabashima. Kabashima: …That was quick. You’re done with the bath already? Yushima: Yeah, quick showers are great. Kabashima: Yushima, what’s that on your desk, is it a handout? Did we have homework or something? Yushima: Nope. These are the results* of the Kirisaki High School Kyudo Club boys’ popularity poll. Kabashima: Hah? A popularity poll? Yushima: The girls got really into it when they were talking so they made this. Wanna see? Kabashima: Who’d want to see that drivel? Yushima: You managed to get into the ranking though, but alright if you don’t wanna see then fine. I guess it’s better that way, since it looks like only the girls are allowed to see it. Kabashima: W-Wait a sec! Why’re you looking at it then?! Yushima: Me? I’m an exception. Kabashima: That's hardly an explanation! Yushima: It’s ‘cause the girls have relied on me a lot. You didn’t know that the girls’ are fed up with the boys’ equipment being smelly or with how sloppy the weeding on the range is, right? Kabashima: I… I didn’t. Yushima: They asked me to tell Mutou-sensei to make it so we can't leave our gi there on the weekends.They also come to me for love advice. Like if so and so is going out with anyone or something. Kabashima: Love a– talking about something so promiscuous in the club?! That’s a corruption of our club’s morals! Yushima: You’re too much of a prude. What era are you in right now, exactly? Kabashima: Ugh… A-Anyway, show me that popularity poll! Yushima: Oh, so you do wanna see? Kabashima: I’m just going to check! Once the president and the others retire, us second years are next in line, okay! Yushima: Wow~ that’s some enthusiasm. Kabashima: “Intelligence ranking”, president’s in first place. Then Sase-san’s second, and Fujiwara’s next… These are pretty decent results. Fujiwara aside, the two third years are thinking of their university exams, so… Yushima: That’s despite the fact that they could get in anywhere on a recommendation too, but it’s on brand for them. Kabashima: “Princely-ness ranking”... Fujiwara’s on top. Well, this has some sense to it too. He’s from a good family, and he’s got class too. Yushima: Hahaha. Fair assessment from you, huh?* Kabashima: What should I say then? He really is on top of the ranking, isn’t he?? …What’s next? “Similarity ranking”? Huh, it says Senichi and Manji are first but does anyone else even match he criteria? What’s with this rigged poll?? Yushima: Calm down, don’t take it too seriously. It’s just the girls’ playing around. Kabashima: “Tsundere ranking”... There’s even a ranking for this type of thing? …Huh? Who’s ‘Nikaido from middle school’? Yushima: About that, they say there was an ‘ikemen tsundera*’ in Kirisaki’s middle school. It’s amazing that he’s still pretty popular even today. Kabashima: …This is all so pointless. Seriously it’s– Yushima! You’re on top in one of these! What’s the meaning of this?! Yushima: Oh that. That’s just due to how much of a monk I look, since my buzz cut gets brought up often. Kabashima: No, the comments here say “It’s because he’s always so calm.”, “It’s like he’s enlightened.” and stuff. You’re oddly highly favored aren’t you? Yushima: ”Oddly”, huh… No, but, it’s ultimately ‘cause of the monk thing, isn’t it? Kabashima: That’s true… But, of all things…a monk, huh? Yushima: Well, someone’s having fun with that. Kabashima: …Sorry. I think they’re complimenting you though. Yushima: That’s a total lie. You look like you’re totally enjoying this. You’re for sure imagining me posing like the Buddha right now. Kabashima: Pfft… *clears throat* Yushima: Well, as for your ranking, Kabashima– Kabashima: W-Wait! I’ll see it for myself! …Here, Kabashima Umetaro. Landslide first place! In… What?! “Being annoyingly cute”?? Yushima: Good for you, Kabashima. Kabashima: Huh? Huuh? “Annoyingly cute”? I’m neither annoying nor cute!! Yushima: No, no… You’re definitely both those things. There’s no coming back if you were ranked as most annoying, but once they attached ‘cute’ to it you got an unexpected chance at redemption. Kabashima: There’s no way I’m accepting this! What about me is like that, huh?! If I had to get a ranking anywhere I’d rather it was something like ‘reliable’ or ‘trustworthy’! Yushima: Heh~ Kabashima: What? You got something to say to that?? Yushima: Ah, geez… This is why I didn’t want to show you.

[aquanthis]

digging deep into grims ocland. raz info 😏⁉️

jesus christ that IS digging deep. i haven’t thought about raz since high school it feels like. i remember so little of his lore but i can do my best to piece it together lmfao. i wish i had any kind of ref image for him but uh he is an oc from so long ago and most of those old ocs have been collecting dust for yeaaaars except the few i’m really attached to

anyway here goes?

okay so i hunted down my original ramble about him just now and i forgot how much i liked this concept lol. i’m realizing i still really like my old ocs

anyway! raz is a magicverse sorcerer. he’s genderfluid and bisexual. he’s one of the most famous models in the western magic world and frequently ends up in the few magazines/newspapers that exist in sorcerer society (usually only widespread in bigger cities/places with high concentrations of sorcerers). he’s also kind of a porn star on the side, though he takes that a bit less seriously. anyway, he’s considered very handsome in a traditionally masculine way, which causes one of his major conflicts, in that he can’t be out as genderfluid or try to present in a more feminine way without risking his job(s). he defaults to using he/him because it’s easier but likes any pronouns :)

his magic type is air. he can harden air into a sword or shield (for example, but he can make just about anything), and can also animate it into familiars, though unlike other notable sorcerers he can’t keep them around forever because he has to spread his power quite thin to do so. he’s quite powerful, which makes him even more popular in sorcerer society, though he’s not exactly the biggest fan of his status!

he’s a big sweetheart really, though you wouldn’t know it from his photoshoots (they often make him appear more masculine than he really is). he has a pet rat (that i can’t remember the name of) that he keeps with him all the time, generally hidden away in a pocket or kept in his hoodie hood. it’s very well trained and he’s obsessed with rats in general.

as previously mentioned, he’s very handsome but he’s kind of embarrassed about it in day-to-day life and tries to brush it off as much as he can. he doesn’t like the amount of attention it gets him. outside of work he wants to be left alone most of the time LOL. also he’s very physically strong and can lift pretty heavy stuff, though he rarely utilizes that strength because. well. he’s a big softie. (he does pick up his girlfriend though. he’s not a fucking coward)

anyway he’s also kind of secretly a huge nerd. he’s really interested in human video games/media and other parts of human culture and if you ask him about it he’ll ramble for a LONG time. he wears leather/denim jackets a lot but he’ll wear nerdy ass graphic tees under them because it makes him happy

also his girlfriend is ayame, a demon who’s seb’s oc :3 i won’t get into her lore because 1. i only partially remember and 2. she belongs to seb, but she’s the first one to actively encourage raz presenting in a more feminine way. they’re this image (with ayame doing raz’s makeup obviously)

oh also, i forgot to do a physical description because i usually have art or screenshots or something. raz is tall and has tan/olive skin, with dark curly hair and freckles and a slightly hooked nose. he’s, uh, pretty obviously jewish. intentionally on my part (i was really into projecting my jewishness as much as possible onto my ocs when i was in high school). he also has a lot of dark body hair and he’s extremely sexy for that <3

erm if there’s anything else, i probably don’t remember ✌️ know that raz loves his girlfriend so much and lets her peg him til he can’t walk i mean what who said that. it’s 5:30 am i’m done bye

[daveinediting]

Foregive me. I’m gonna ramble a little.

My random starting point is that I'm aware how sometimes I know more than other people I work with... but only by about a few days. Maybe a few hours.

You see I've taken the time to indulge what my wife's profession calls Continuing Education. A yearly requirement of her profession. 

But not of mine.

These days, though, are kind of boom days for the technology on which my profession relies... the technology that enables us to both move faster and do things that were impossible, like, ten minutes ago. What we can do with this tech is significant enough to prompt changes in our post production process and also a bit of the production process as well.

An editor friend of mine was feeling a little late to the party which made me think of an old story about my daughter who, in Jr. High, assured her band director she could learn to play the clarinet over the summer and be ready for band first day of school in the fall. After all, how hard can the clarinet be?

She'd tamed the piano and guitar by that point and had no idea the nightmare a reed instrument is. It's the only instrument that ever seriously pissed her off and, as summer drew to a close and the first day of school approached, she despaired that the clarinet was somehow beyond her abilities.

I don't know as that's exactly how she expressed her grief. What I do know is that she legitimately hurled her clarinet at the Christmas tree one day in a moment of relentless frustration.

Christmas tree?

Yeah. Long story... but we have it up all year dressed in the manner of different seasons and holidays.

My point is, she'd assured her band director, had told friends, had made it public how, no sweat, she was gonna show up on the first day of school knowing how to play the clarinet.

Whoops.

So what happened?

Did she know how to play the clarinet on that first day?

Oh gosh, no. She didn't.

Here's a coupla things that happened before that day, though.

The first is that she ran through a number of YouTube clarinet teachers until she found one who made sense and produced immediate results in her ability.

The second is this:

I told her she didn't need to know how to play the clarinet on the first day of school.

I know, I know. That's what she promised. But the evidence of that promise was to successfully audition the clarinet parts of the first two songs of the band year for her director.

So.

She only needed to learn how to play the clarinet on those two songs. And then after that she only needed to stay ahead of her director one song at a time.

Which is what she did.

She practiced only those two songs and, on the first day of school, she came home with a note from her band director for us that read—

"Well, she's done it again!"

She mastered only what was needed next which gave the impression of knowing how to play the clarinet. And that was sufficient. Just as it's sufficient in other pursuits as well. 

For me, it's not about learning everything out there about editing. It's about learning and mastering only what I need to know next.

And who gives me that assignment?

Well... I do.

I read scripts at home or outside or just anywhere that's not an edit suite. I read the script and analyze what it's trying to do which prompts me to think about how to help manifest it for viewers. 

Now, I don't make those judgements based on what I know how to do. I make them based on what I believe needs to happen. And if I know how to do that, great. And if I don't know how to do that...

I learn how to do it before the edit.

That's the only thing I'm getting graded on. What I actually do for the project in front of me. Not how long ago I mastered it or how many other awesome things I can do.

I simply stay ahead of the project in front of me. Which allows me a helpful focus. Affords me a big picture view of a script before I even look at footage. I think a lot about what I'm gonna do before I do it. 

And that works. So...

Lately I'm aware that sometimes I know more than other people I work with... 

But only by about a few days.

And then they read what I read or they watch what I watched and then we're at the same level of knowledge with our own takes on it. With our own spins. And then we talk about it. Kick around the possibilities. And the possibilities. And the possibilities.

Which is exactly.

The kind of creative discovery we all love to put in play.

😍😍😍

[theduderdrew]

I’m An Old Man Now

I am now deciding at the ripe age of 26 to write my thoughts out on a *public forum.

It’s been a while. I genuinely cannot remember the last time I was on this app. Which is good. In regards to what I want to use this app for, I’m okay with that. I can’t afford a therapist so I’m good with a bit of discretion.

Where to start, though? So much has happened in my 26 years of life. I kinda wished I would have done this earlier so I could bounce some of these ideas off of something. 26-year-old me and 23-year-old me had vastly different perspectives of the world. Wish I could talk to that kid nowadays. He was bright and bubbly. Hell, 17-year-old me was even more joyful than him. Would be great to get a room with all these versions of myself and discuss what kind of music we like. Maybe what kind of actors we’re obsessed with. Who we are chasing after at the moment romantically. Now that’s a good source of a lot of my unresolved issues lol. Whatever, this is a tangent.

I guess these things will be kind of free form…stream of consciousness?? Sure, whatever comes to mind. That sounds good. I just want to leave something behind I reckon. Something I can look back on and say, “Yeah, that’s me at 26 FOR SURE.” Something to look back on and cringe. I used to write a lot on notebooks. I have a trusty stack of them, but pages are missing. Torn from them because I couldn’t stand to look at stuff I would have wrote while I’m drunk. Or high. Or sad. Or angry. Or happy. Everything involving me gives me the ick. Also, you’ve picked up the lingo “(insert thing here) gives me the ick” Future Drew. Good luck shaking that off.

Where was I? Current way of thinking. So you are in a relationship that has you torn. Torn in a way you were not expecting. All of the friends you have cultivated since high school/college are now contemplating cutting you off (or already have) because you are isolating again. You’ve spent a lot of time with your partner. It’s a personal choice. You really feel completely comfortable with her. She has a ton of flaws, but you love her. You kind of feel trapped because of the amount of love you have for her. But it’s a partner you have actually felt something for. That’s not a dig at the past s/o’s. You have a soft spot for all of them but they set your entire being on fire like this person does. That’s why you can’t get away. You’ve cancelled plans. Cut off your friends. Haven’t reached out. All of your energy belongs to her. Which no one could possibly understand it. It’s unhealthy. You’ve never had healthy relationships to set a system of role modeling on.

Your parents were dysfunctional. Your step dad and mom divorced after a tumultuous 10+ years. They sucked for each other. It wasn’t until your mom and biological sperm donor got back together that you wished for the previous dysfunction. Well, not exactly. That’s not fair. You are so emotionally distant that you can’t possibly give a shit about what your mother decides to do with her romantic life. You only hope she gets the help she absolutely needs. Could be a projection of your own problems, but we all need help right?

Back to the friends. They are tired of my shenanigans. They don’t like the neglect. I don’t blame them, though. In some ways, I believe I’ve outgrown them. But that would imply that you have grown since 17 (*spoiler* you have NOT). To be fair, however, I do have a yearning to reach out to other people. Visit other places. Ingrain myself in other environments that isn’t Atlanta, GA (that is where you live at the moment). The only problem is where you live now (previously mentioned) is owned by one of said friends. You’ve also really hurt her apparently. She cried in front of you, citing that you haven’t been a great friend. The house has been super AWKWARD since. How were you supposed to know though? You were so far up your own ass you couldn’t see the damage you were causing. Now that you are out, smelling the roses, the roses are dying. They have been relocated. Away from you. You’re gonna be alone for a while, so you need to get used to it. Just like your dear old dad.

You have been spending a lot of time with John. He is still selfish. Still a loner. A hermit. A republican? Didn’t see that one coming. You allotted time to spend with him, usually on Monday nights. This is football time for your old man, so you don’t have to talk much. It’s better that way. Better to not address the years I haven’t seen the guy. Keep that elephant in the corner. However, since the breakup, you’ve neglected mom. You can’t even place her. Mom’s divorce has taken her out of the home she knew for 10+ years and into the unknown. And you’re watching football. Fuck you. I don’t care if you are working and it’s the only convenient place, you need to be there for Mom. And you’re not. This Christmas will be the only time in a month you have bothered to hang out with her. That’s hurtful, man. Do better. Stop putting your energy in the things that you have lost before and could lose again (i.e. relationships, your father). That’s a bit unfair. You desperately want to rebuild these relationships into your version of happiness. It could work. But you’ll need to neglect those who were there before your Dad and your current partner. What can you do? How can you juggle? You friends hate the girlfriend you have now. Your mom hates (but actually fucking LOVES) your father. Will the balls stay in the air or fall down with every other lost relationship or friendship you’ve managed to fuck up in the past. Only time will tell. That’s the beauty of this immersive sim game we call life. You can make it your own.

I’m gonna call it a night. I’ve made an ass of myself enough. Hopefully I can private this shit. Good night.

*Touch The Sun - Cryalot*

[sassmonster]

A (Not So) Quick Survey to Get to Know Me

As much as I want to dive straight into all the things I need to get out of me, I know it’s just better to get some fun stuff out of the way. Or, if not fun, at least informative. I’m not using just one questionnaire I found but several cobbled together and a few questions of my own to pepper it with my own personality, whatever that is.

What’s your full name?

Andrea Lynzi Puckett, though I tend to do Moten nee Puckett these days. I might not be legally married, but trust me, we’re married.

Are you named after anyone?

Good question. Not entirely. My mom never liked her first name and loved her middle name, so I got that one as my first (Andrea), the rest of it was just because my mom liked writing cursive loops at the time I was born and wanted to write Lynzi. Coincidentally, I don’t (and didn’t) hate my first name, but for most of my childhood I went by Lynzi to my family and friends (the former by my family’s choice) and I think it’s just kind of hilarious. My brother wanted to name me April and my dad wanted to name me Rose, for what it's worth.

Do you have any siblings?

An older brother, named Ryan.

Where did you grow up?

Primarily in Tallahassee, Florida. I was born in Kentucky but we left before I turned one and moved down there, then, around 6, we moved back up to Kentucky and I lived there for another 10 years or so before I started moving around and living with different families in different places in the States.

What activities did you do in High School?

I wasn’t really that into participating at that point, probably stemming from all my social anxiety — that being said, I did try a few things through the years because my friends did, but High School was kind of bone dry for me. Not a fun experience and I ended up dropping out, but I guess more on that later.

Where did you go to college?

I didn’t! I almost ended up applying into my mom’s alma matter of Eastern Kentucky University after I passed my GED there and they kind of tried to woo me; something about my writing score and the 94th percentile or something. I wanted to study philosophy though, but I was informed I should go to college to get a job and was suggested, dundundun, writing! Which, as I think a lot of you know, isn’t exactly the most stable thing. But the idea of going to college for a job rather than learning soured me and I never got around to it.

What kind of music do you like?

Rough question, because I think I literally listened to everything at one point or another, but really don’t adhere to the idea of genres on the whole. I’m not here to tell anyone what their music falls in to, category wise, and I don’t think I should be defined by that. But if you want general ideas, my spotify history should provide uhhhh… some illumination.

What’s one hobby that you’d like to take up?

Knitting! Well, knitting and crocheting. I knew how to do basic crocheting as a kid but never really got further than that, but it seems way soothing and like it’d tickle the neurodivergent parts of my brain. I’ll eventually get around to it, but the stars haven’t quite aligned yet.

What did you think you wanted to be when you grew up?

A veterinarian, because I love animals and wanted to help them? But at some point around middle school I realized down that path lay me watching an animal dying on my table and the way it would tear through my heart. I can’t even watch animals die in shows without getting misty, even knowing they’re fake deaths, I can’t imagine how the sight of an animal dying either in or out of my control would sit well.

Honestly if I’d thought about it, looking back in hindsight, I’d probably have said ‘healthy’.

What’s the biggest project on your to-do list right now?

Finishing the tidy up and decorating of our new space. We haven't done much in the last few weeks but things have been hectic. We got big plans and empty brains rn though so.

Do you have any irrational fears?

I have trypophobia, which gives me legitimate panic attacks when it gets triggered and a fear of deep water/the unknown/dark open spaces. I don’t think either of them are really irrational, but I’d classify trypophobia (the fear of clusters of holes, such as lotus pods) as less of a fear and more of a very visceral reaction to something. It makes my insides itch, I sometimes feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’ve been known to claw at my own skin just to calm down after it. It is the worst.

Are you a morning or night person?

Night, hands down. I’ve been getting up earlier than I used to (about 10:30 am or sometimes 9 if I can’t sleep well) and staying up until my usual 1 or 2, but it used to be way worse. I used to stay up until 6 am out of pure insomnia and sleep most of the day. I just prefer the night, man, what are you gonna do?

What are some of your favorite memes?

If there’s one thing I know to be true, it is…

Lying is always a bad idea. It creates more problems than it solves, even if you’re generally just ‘lying to someone’ to spare their feelings it ends up spiraling into nightmarish proportions. With my anxiety, the idea of lying is really, really hard; the act of coming up with a lie then having to balance all the other stuff going on to keep that lie up and having to contend with the thought of what’ll happen when the truth comes out just makes it easier to tell the truth and take the consequences.

Don’t lie, it sucks for everyone. (I do, however, tend to not intrude on other people’s lies as long as it’s not emotionally or physically harming anyone because that’s not my business. If you want to say you were running a marathon last week that’s up to you.)

Do you have any nicknames?

Sort of, yeah. My parents would often short Lynzi to Lyn for a long time, and when I was a child my dad called me goose because a) they replaced their pet duck with me and b) all I did was eat, sleep, and shit (his words) but it is such a heart warming memory for me; goose is the best nickname and I do have those mannerisms.

I’ve had friends call me Dove (Drea-love), D, Dre, [insert RP character name here], and a bunch of others.

My husband doesn’t have any particular nicknames for me, but he refers to me as really sweet petnames sometimes. Other times he calls me Truckasaurus and Bigfoot because I have big feet and hands like Lana from Archer and it’s sort of a funny thing that I definitely do not resent him for.

What’s your favorite book?

American Gods by Neil Gaiman, hands down. He’s also my favorite author. I return to that book at least once a year to read it again and absolutely, truly adore it. Usually I have a hard time pinning down favorites but that one is somewhat easy to get. (ps, that is not an affiliate link, I will get nothing out of you going to buy and read that book, it’s just that good.)

What is the last thing you purchased?

A hot iron to straighten my hair and keep it the way it was when I first got it cut. Haven't really used it yet, because I haven't needed to go out anywhere, but I did use the blow dryer. Fun, practical stuff.

How did you meet your husband?

Funny story! Well, not really. We met online on a video game called City of Heroes like… 13ish years ago? We knew each other very loosely, mostly like by association of association, but I always had a bit of a crush. We followed each other on socials but I was too shy to ever talk to him and he was too oblivious to even notice me. I still sometimes give him guff about that one, but it was bongy how often I’d just look at his posts and will him to see me, like some kind of mousy haired girl in a young adult paranormal romance novel.

Fast forward about ten years and we met in a revival of the game that had been closed forever. I still followed him on Tumblr, until he disappeared, but had never really sat down and had a conversation with him until I finally mustered up the courage (because we were in the same group) to message him and say “Yo fucker” continued by an explanation of my anxieties and how I just wanted to say hi and talk and all that jazz. The rest was history… super fast history…

I’d say it took us very little time to realize we were in it forever. We officially started dating in December and I was here by February. I haven’t looked back (except that I miss my cat and Ezrik) since. I’d go through hell for him and he knows it, and he’d do it for me too.

The first night I was here I got really motion sick from the plane ride (and subsequent ride home) and spent most of the ride with the window down trying to keep cool, because getting hot when I’m throwing up makes it worse, while he was freezing his buns off and just watching me throw up into a shopping bag. Once we got back to his place I laid my face down for a minute and literally passed up and woke up every once in a while to throw up. He’d change the bucket out with a new bag and checked on me all night.

I realized I was home and I was loved and I never wanted to be with anyone else in my life. He says he knew it was forever that first night too, even with all the throwing up. … I wrote too much.

When was the last time you cried?

A couple of days ago I was listening to the Smashing Pumpkins, thought of my brother, and had a quick tear up about it. Music is very capable of doing that for me, especially when it comes to my family. I’ve lost all of them and it takes very little to get me to cry over them on some days. Though I’m working on my grief it’s still a process and it feels like every time I get somewhere someone else dies on me. (psa: each member of my immediate family died within five years of one another almost like clockwork and I hate it.)

How tall are you?

6’2″ which is another reason my husband calls me Truckasaurus. I’ve always hated it because it feels like the antithesis of girly but I’m learning to embrace it more as I age. Growth, or whatever. (ha, a pun)

Tell me about your longest running friendship with someone?

I am still friends with a whole group of people I met over 20 years ago on Yahoo! chat. We used to RP together there and we all found each other again on Discord (I’d stayed in touch with a few of them to begin with overall) and we just sort of kept in touch that way and RP new characters from the same setting sometimes on Discord. I really should write more there, but there’s been a log going on.

What is one thing that instantly makes your day better?

I am living the happy marriage cliche, but my husband. I can just look over at him and just the fact that he exists makes me smile. If you want something less sappy and less apparent… animals. All animals. I don’t care just give me the animals.

What do you enjoy spending money on?

Clothes, skin care, and recently, make-up. I know it doesn’t seem like it with the fact that I dress like a gremlin going to an underground club for other gremlins who tried to make it as child stars but… I really do want to try to get better about these things. That’s one of the things I’m going to do here is start getting myself up, dressed, made up, and ready to take a picture for an OotD type of thing.

I also love spending money on nerdy gaming shit and all kinds of plush dolls. I give Fangamer more money when I have it than I usually have to spare but I just have loved their store for so long. (again, no affiliation, I won’t get paid, but you know, do the thing.)

What do you wish more people understand about you?

That I am trying really hard. I know it might not seem like it from the outside, but I am working through years of untreated mental health issues with medications and making strides every day, so I might be moving slow and flubbing sometimes, but I am really trying.

Also, my anxiety questions are never personal and you’re not obligated to answer them. I can’t say I won’t panic a bit if you don’t, but I’ll never truly hold it against anyone. It’s just my anxiety running wild that makes me have to ask if I’m annoying, or if you still like me, or if something is wrong, or that you seem mad at me? It’s not because of anything you’ve done, most likely, just my brain misfiring and me trying to corral it back in.

No one is obligated to deal with my issues, my grief, my misinterpretations, my emotions, or anything like that. Any of you who do are saints and I love you for it, but I’ll still love you even if you don’t.

Do you have any specific talents?

UhhhHHHHhh nope, not really. I mean I have managed to never break a bone in my life or need a hospital visit, but part of that is because my mom was an RN and could take care of most things on site. In recent history I’ve fallen down the stairs at home twice within the span of a year almost exactly. I didn’t break anything there, just got bruised and sore, and I still have the marks from every time but everything really seems fine and honestly… that’s talent, right?

I think most of the things I do aren’t talent, just slowly learned things. I can do unlicensed therapy with the caveat of ‘take it with a pinch of salt’ to pretty good results from what I’ve noticed. No replacement for proper help but… I can put on my Human Resources voice and tend to calm things down in most situations. Still not really a talent though, is it?

What do you dislike that everyone else seems to like?

Right off the bat? Sour cream, cilantro, and guacamole. They’re both vile to me, but in the case of sour cream I don’t want it anywhere near me. It’s just so not my thing. Like whipped cream that went real bad. The texture and flavor are messed up and I just can’t with it. Cilantro doesn’t taste like soap to me, as far as I remember anyway, I just don’t like it: it doesn’t taste good. Guacamole tastes like grass generally but that might be me getting bad guac, so we’ll see.

Daisy Johnson as played by Chloe Bennet is another one. I don’t appreciate Chloe Bennet’s defense of Logan Paul ages ago just because she was dating him and I find the character of Daisy Johnson extremely exhausting and she tries my patience.

Hot weather? I know I’m not alone on that one, but I really cannot stand getting hot at all. I start to feel sick if I get too warm. Call it my penguin associations.

Young Adult Romance novels. I did once? But then I think getting in a relationship that is healthier than all my previous ones just made it feel like getting hit in the face with a hammer every time I read one. All hamfisted and put in for the sake of the Twilight effect and I’m not into it. Still love Young Adult books in general, though.

If your pet could talk, what do you think they might say about you?

My sweet baby

I MISS MY BABY. Seven, my cat, is currently with her ‘father’ in Texas (my best friend, Ezrik) where I used to live with her. We also had a cat named Six who got out one day and (almost) no one believed me until it was too late. I miss her like crazy. Apollo also exists and is sort of my super bitey son who gets out of hand, but I doubt he’d even remember me right now. But let’s see, I have some ideas for the first two.

Seven: Mommy hasn’t made me a fort in ages. Daddy doesn’t do it right. I also miss her bed, she’d just let me take over. AND HER THIGHS. Napping on her thigh and up across her hip so she wouldn’t be able to move was so good… I’m hungry… oh right and the way she’d hold me like a baby for hours until her arms went numb. I love having that kind of power.

Six: She keeps calling me butterbean, does that mean I’m fat? I’ll show her, I’ll lose weight! Now she’s calling me I can’t believe it’s not butterbean… whatever, gonna headbutt her in the knee to say hello… AAHHHHHHH I’M HALFWAY ACROSS THE HOUSE BUT I CAN SENSE SHE’S GETTING CRISS-CROSS APPLESAUCE SOMEWHERE I’MA GET IN THAT LAP. hello.

Name one celebrity crush, past or present.

Jon Bernthal. He’s at the top of my freebies list. I cannot explain to you why but I love his boxer’s previously-broken-nose face and just… ugh. I have a whole list but… uggghhh.

A genie grants you the ability to have infinite amounts of one item. What is it?

I think that might honestly be enough for now. When your browser starts to lag in writing a post it’s probably time to let it go. Yes, I’m on a less than perfect laptop, but still! If you have any questions you want me to answer leave them in the comments below and maybe I’ll do a part two at some point!